Stuck on Stupid (Chris Brown)

I stood on the porch for what seemed like an eternity and probably was one because my battery was drained, and my legs had both fallen asleep.

It was only by God's grace that I made it to the bench and sat down before I toppled over.

At some point in waiting for a call that never came, I fell asleep; my mind was trapped between Puck and Santana and the idea that I seemed to have a type.

No wonder Biff didn't last; even if I tried my best to be what he needed, he could never lead me outside of the bedroom.

It was a weird contradiction the way I needed to be in control of others but sucked at being in control of myself.

Having someone to lean on to help guide me was what I'd been lacking since Russell put me out. Mercy had been great to get me through my pregnancy, but once I moved back home, I had been drifting.

I craved having someone else who loved me enough to save me from myself because bad things happened when I tried to take control of my own life for too long.

Always!

There was shuffling all around me as I avoided opening my eyes, afraid to realize that she had never called me, and it was early morning. I just wanted to go on pretending that I was trapped in a dream just for a little longer.

Even though classes had started and I was sitting on the porch, scantly dressed, the girls knew better than to question me.

The only sisters brave enough to say anything about it were Vanessa and Asha, but they had afternoon classes.

I was blending in for once, and it suited me.

Or so I thought I was blending in...

Seriously, God, why couldn't I get that kind of request answered?

Life has never been that simple.

If it hadn't been for Noah, I would have become fused to that bench at some point, but he knew me better than I liked and found me.

I had been trying to bring my dead phone back to life when I heard Noah's heavy footsteps slow down next to me.

"Don't make a big deal out of it. We had an itch. We scratched it." He said as he plopped down beside me. Apparently, he was finding this situation between us much easier than I was, making me even more upset. His hand came into my line of sight as I kept my head bent and my eyes on my phone. "Here, drink this. You look like shit."

I stared at the coffee cup and, for the first time, believed that Puck would make a good husband one day.

"Thanks." I tried to say, but it came out as barely a grunt. I didn't even reach out for the cup, but my manners still kicked in.

He sighed and then slapped some sense back into me.

"She called me this morning. Woke me up and asked why you hadn't answered her calls."

And just like that, my trance was broken. I snatched the cup from Noah and prepared to interrogate him, but he shook his head.

"Drink that, and I'll talk."

I nodded as I began to drink my coffee. Of course, I gagged when I realized it was tea.

"Shit, that's terrible." I muttered as I handed the cup back to him. "I hate tea."

"I don't care if you hate it. You need it." I rolled my eyes, and his face got even more serious. "You're my baby mama, and I want you to stay healthy. So drink the damned tea, or I'm not telling you what she said." He handed the cup back to me and waited for me to drink more of the vile leaf water before he gave me a condescending smile. "Good, Quinnie."

"Fuck you."

"Hmmm...don't tempt me."

My stomach rolled and lurched as I still felt the sting in my back. Why did I let Puck fuck me?

"Can we not?"

"Fine, " he said, chuckling to himself before pulling his phone from his pocket and scrolling through his text messages. He was not the least concerned that I was breaking apart last night.

I watched him type out a quick message and then hit send before he sighed again and looked at me. The humor was still in his fucking eyes.

"Please?" I whispered, as my irritation with the smirk on his face made me feel violent.

"She says she called you as soon as she got your message this morning. Says that she called you six times before giving up and calling me. She was worried and was ready to fly out here. She said she had a crazy night and missed your text, but if you were available, she wanted to Skype you later. She misses you."

"Oh." My stomach rolled more, and I felt like the tea would make a disgusting reappearance. I felt so stupid and lost. How did I miss her call? "Can I just use your phone now? I've got a paper that I should be doing later."

He looked at me hard, obviously seeing past my bullshit.

"I know you are hung up on her still, but you need to shut it down. We just got big news, and I would hate for you to throw that away over Santana."

"And what, I should just settle for you?" I snapped, rage filling me as I took in the harsh reality he was forcing me to see.

"Why not? You love me; I saw it in your eyes last night."

"You're fooling yourself if you think what I felt last night was close to love. I didn't even climax. That should have been proof enough. Love was the last thing that was going through my mind. Get over yourself."

"You first, and by the way, I'd rather you settle for Beth than me. I wish you would see that. It seems like for someone as smart as you, you get so wrapped up in petty bullshit." He said as he tried to wipe away that pained look.

Hot, fiery rage was coursing through my veins. I hated him at that moment, more than when he got me pregnant, more than when he slept with Shelby and spent so much time with Beth behind my back.

More than when he turned me down when I begged him to make a second baby.

Right then, I wanted the ground to open up and hell to swallow him.

How could he think I was petty or wouldn't settle for Beth?

Maybe because that's exactly what I just did?

God, how could I be ready for her?

I pushed myself off the bench, praying to God that I could still storm off after doing so much damage to my nerves last night.

And thankfully, God was on my side. The pain lingered, but I could at least stand, which was better than sitting there listening to the last thing I wanted to hear.

I hated when Puck made me feel less than myself.

Although it was the slowest storm-off in history, Noah didn't come after me, but I knew that he was watching. Even though he was fed up with me, I knew I could count on him to ensure that if I fell, he'd catch me.

He was the kind of man that I should be marrying.

And I wanted to marry him if I couldn't have her. Even at that moment, if he asked, I would say yes. Santana was moving on. Why shouldn't I? But I knew why.

I was pining for her. The closer the wedding came to fruition, the worse it got, and I hated it.

I felt so lost.

What did Brittany have that I didn't?

And why the fuck, did I keep losing focus of what was important?

Noah didn't return to my room immediately, so I used that time to get my head together. Of course, these days, that meant stalking Santana's and Brittany's social media, to boot.

And that's when I saw it.

A new episode of Fondue for Two was uploaded, and the face looking back at me in the still frame had my heart plummeting to my stomach.

How fucking dare Brittany meddle!

Was that Santana's grandmother?

Is this why she didn't call me?

Any frustration I had with her was now gone.

My paper was going to have to wait.

I watched the episode twice, feeling sadness for Santana and rage for Britt's need to control everything.

The interview was like watching Brittany pull up a corner of Santana's soul and expose it to the world—like she always does. Britt has to have her way all the time, and bringing Alma onto Fondue for Two was a testament to that.

I'd always thought she was crazier than anyone realized.

Brtt's got serious balls. I would never have done something like this to Santana. There are boundaries, but I guess Brittany refuses to recognize those.

It's exhausting. My head was aching, and the tightness in my chest and the rolling in my stomach were making it worse.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I couldn't give in to them. Despite the emotional upheaval of the last twenty-six hours, I couldn't let myself get too bent out of shape.

Beth's picture sat on the surface of my desk, just next to the laptop, and it called my attention back to what Puck was saying.

I couldn't get sucked into the world of Santana Lopez and Brittany fucking Pierce. I just couldn't.

Weeks of throwing myself into my school work and focusing on getting out of Yale with a clear head were not going to fly out the window.

I worked my ass off, and a crush on Santana couldn't topple that. This marriage wasn't going to last. I couldn't see it; frankly, it wasn't my place.

I kissed the picture and then put it front and center of my corkboard.

I resolved to get through these three weeks with graduation and getting Beth back as my sole focus.

Santana was settling for Brittany, and it was past time for me to accept it.

I told myself I was done being stupid, hoping for a way in with her.

I'd had my chance, and I'd missed it.

Now I just had to deal.