Her parents were supposed to arrive on Friday. Why are they here now? Fuck! I am so fucking screwed! she mentally panics.
"Yes, mija. Surprise!" her parents say together. However, their dazzling, Hollywood-worthy smiles disappear as soon as they notice their company.
"Santana, who is this?" her mother bites out with the grin that she learned a long time ago to be scared of. It is the "I'm pissed, but I don't want to cause a scene right now" smile. Santana also knows that her mom knows exactly who Brittany is, since she has instructed her daughter many times to stay away from the blonde whose reputation her parents are familiar with.
"Um, this is Brittany. She was just leaving." Santana almost gives Brittany a wave and bashful smile but, quickly remembering whose presence they are in, glares instead.
Luckily, Brittany can tell the glare is fake. The brunette's eyes seem to say "I'll explain later" and "please just go." Looking between the girl and her parents, she simply replies, "Yeah. Bye. Sorry to take your time." With one last curious glance, she turns and walks away, leaving Santana to deal with her parents.
"What was that, Santana?" Teresa Lopez probes.
The teenager scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Ugh, long story."
"We have time," Antonio cuts in sternly. "Let's go inside first. I miss my home."
Doing as he says, they settle on the couch. Santana hates whenever her parents come home. It just means judgment, condescending tones, ridiculous expectations, and empty hugs.
"Explain now," Teresa demands, with the voice she uses in court.
For once, Santana decides on the truth—part of it, at least. "First of all, Puck and I broke up."
"What? He was perfect for boosting your reputation!" her mother says incredulously. While Antonio is the silent driving force, Teresa is usually the voice of her parents.
"I know, but he was an idiot—"
"True."
"And he didn't see how amazing I am and broke up with me."
"I hope I don't have to tell you how humiliating a breakup is, Santana."
"I know. Of course you don't." Good, this is going just as she hoped. "That's where Brittany comes in. She's the only one who is more popular than Puck, and she just happened to be at the restaurant too, so I used her."
Her mother arches a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "How exactly did you do that?"
"I said that I'd wanted him to break up with me all along, so I could be with Brittany, who I was having a secret affair with. Of course that's not true, I just made it up."
"And that worked?"
"Of course," Santana says, pretending to be offended by her mother's doubt. "He was practically crying when he walked away, and he still hasn't stopped chasing after me."
"Well, points on originality and effectiveness," her mom smirks, "but couldn't you have chosen a better person? I mean, really, Brittany Pierce? She's trash, just like her alcoholic father."
Out of her parents' sight, Santana's fist clenches. They clearly don't know anything about Brittany, what she's been through, or how amazing and sweet she is. However, Santana obviously can't say any of this out loud. "I'm sorry, Mother. That's all I had to work with."
With Antonio still listening and watching from his armchair, Teresa scowls but luckily doesn't seem too mad. "If that's all, then why was she here tonight?"
Santana hesitates, trying to think of an excuse. "Well, I had to pretend to date her for a while, to upset Puck. We already 'broke up' though, so I don't know, she must have fallen for me. Who wouldn't, right?" she says with fake cockiness. Really, all she wants to do is sigh and squeal in happiness. Brittany has fallen for her.
"Of course, you're completely desirable," Teresa says proudly. "But I don't want you anywhere near her again. I don't want her tainting you." With that, she gets off the couch and heads towards the stairs. "Good night, Santana. Antonio, be a dear and get the bags."
"Yes, honey," he replies as she ascends the stairs.
"Glad you're home, Papi," Santana turns to him, primarily out of obligation.
"Me too, mija. Oh, we got you something during our layover in Manhattan." He pulls out a light blue, velvet box from his jacket pocket and hands it to her.
Accepting the box, she slowly opens it. "Oh Papi, es muy bella," Santana gasps. It is a silver chain with a teardrop-shaped charm, adorned with a diamond.
"It's Tiffany's. I know how you love that store."
Putting on her "perfect daughter" smile, she closes the case. "I love it."
He nods, then follows his wife upstairs. Alone again, Santana plops on the couch and sighs. The necklace really is beautiful, but it's always like this. Her parents leave for long periods of time, and when they finally come home, they bring her an expensive gift, as if that makes up for their absence in her life. Yes, she loves the freedom that having MIA parentals gives her, but mostly, she wishes she could have normal parents: supportive, helpful, and loving.
Her heart is still clenching for Brittany. She is caught between feeling euphoric about their kisses and that the blonde wants to give them a shot, and dread and fear of what her parents would do if she ever dated Brittany for real.
After Brittany leaves the awkwardness that is meeting Santana's parents, she darts straight over to Quinn's.
"What are you doing here?" Quinn asks, wide-eyed, as Brittany walks in. "You're supposed to be making out with Santana!"
"Yeah, well, I was getting through to her, but then her cockblocking parents showed up."
"Oh my god. Did they see you? Is Santana okay?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Her parents were kind of scary, but I'm sure everything is fine."
"You don't understand, B. Her parents are weird."
"What do you mean?"
Although it'd be better for Santana herself to explain, Quinn realizes that Brittany needs to know. "Santana's parents aren't like normal parents."
"Okay? Neither are mine."
"No, Britt. The only thing the Lopezes care about is status, how society views them, and what kind of connections they have. Wikipedia Teresa and Antonio Lopez, and you'll know what I mean."
"Wow, they have their own Wikipedia pages? Well, I guess that explains why Santana's so caught up in popularity."
Quinn nods. "Exactly. In middle school, she didn't care about any of that stuff, but then, in high school, her parents started really pushing her. To them, it's all about being the best. They even have this ridiculous rule book that they programmed Santana to follow. Basically, their life motto is 'Be the best, do anything to be the best, and don't let love slow you down.'"
Brittany gapes at her. "Wow. I'm surprised she still has some humanity left. I'm sure you had something to do with that, though."
Smiling, Quinn shrugs. "Well, I can't take all the credit. Anyways, now you know why she is the way she is."
"I feel really bad for her, always having to live up to their expectations."
"It's unfortunate, but screw them, as I always tell Santana. Anyways, what happened before her parents interrupted? What happened before my mom interrupted?"
Brittany instantly blushes. "Well, after the movie ended, we kind of just jumped each other. It was so hot, Q," Brittany says dreamily, her body heating as she remembers their sexually-charged energy.
"Details?" Thinking better of her request, Quinn quickly adds, "Not too much."
"We made out, and I may have gotten to second base." Quinn gasps. "And I probably would've gotten further if you hadn't twatswatted me!" Brittany playfully swats at the shorter blonde's arm.
"It's not my fault! I tried to stop her."
Brittany suddenly starts giggling.
"What?"
"You would've let us have sex on your couch?"
Quinn scrunches up her face. "Nevermind, maybe it's a good thing we interrupted. So what happened at San's?"
The dancer's face falls a little. "I kissed her again and told her that I want to be with her."
"Oh my god!" Quinn squeals.
"But she said, and I quote, 'It's not that I don't want to. I just can't.' I guess I know why now." As she feels tears start to burn her eyes, Brittany looks away.
All Quinn can do is sigh and hug her friend. "Just give her some time. I'm sure if you show her what she could have, she'll cave faster than you can make someone come." She laughs, trying to cheer Brittany up.
It half works. The taller girl lets out a broken chuckle and wipes her eyes. "No. I told her what I want. The ball's in her court now."
Santana is avoiding Brittany. When they see each other in the hallway, Santana's eyes widen comically, and she blushes madly before turning tail and basically running away. The brunette averts her eyes, so she can avoid seeing the hurt look on the other girl's face. If she sees it, she'll want to kiss it all away.
"What are you doing, Santana?" Quinn asks after angrily dragging her into an empty bathroom where they can speak freely.
"Quinn, my parents came home yesterday. Mis padres. Do you know what they would do to me if they found out?"
"What if they find out about your fake relationship? It's not like people in this town don't talk."
"I already told them. They understood why I had to do it," she says simply.
Her response only frustrates the blonde more. "You are unbelievable! You think a fake relationship and a real one are any different in their eyes?"
"Yes, because a fake one doesn't involve feelings!"
Quinn scoffs. "You've had feelings for her way longer than you can even admit!"
For a second, Santana looks like she's going to yell back, but then she shuts her mouth and just looks away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
The brunette doesn't even try to glare. "Whatever, Q," she grumbles before walking out.
"You know you can't avoid her forever!" Quinn yells at her retreating back.
A few minutes later, in European History, Quinn complains to Brittany, "I don't know why she's so goddamn stubborn."
The taller blonde is back in her old seat, which means she can stare at Santana longingly all she wants. "It's okay, Q. I get it. Parents have a huge influence on their kids' lives. I mean, look how I turned out."
"That isn't an excuse," Quinn fumes. What will it take to get Santana to come to her senses?
"Well, I can't do shit about it now," Brittany mutters and shrugs.
"So are you going to the car wash on Sunday?" Quinn asks, trying to change the subject.
"Why would I? They don't wash motorcycles, Santana's ignoring me, and I'm not looking for a hookup anymore," she replies bitterly.
"Britt," Quinn sighs. Santana has really gotten to her.
Not bothering to reply, Brittany grabs her bag and stands up.
"What are you doing?" Quinn asks.
"Getting some air."
"Ms Pierce, where do you think you're going?" Mrs. Doosenbury interrupts.
"Bathroom," she replies without stopping.
"If you're not back in three minutes, I expect to see you at detention!"
She walks out.
Brittany makes her way to the bleachers.
"What's up?" Aphasia asks from her lawn chair.
"Nothing." Brittany plops down on her couch and picks out a cigar.
"Why haven't you been here lately? I thought you and the Ice Queen split up?"
"We did. And don't call her that."
"Whoa, looks like someone has a hangup. You're seriously not over her yet?"
"No, I'm seriously not," Brittany snaps.
"Alright, alright, I get it. Actually, no, I don't."
"Ever been in a stable relationship before?"
"Nope."
"Yeah, well, neither have I." Wanting to forget her troubles, Brittany takes a long drag.
"But I thought—"
"Nope. She was just using me."
"Wow. I'm sorry, girl."
"Me too. And you know what? It sucks, because I think I'm falling for her."
"Then make her fall for you! The Brittany I know could get anyone to fall for her."
"Please. I can seduce anyone, sure, but everyone knows I'm just a one-time fuck."
Aphasia shakes her head. "Naw, B. I don't think you know how many hearts you've broken. People fucking love you."
"Really?" she asks in disbelief.
"Chyeah! Go get your girl!"
"But—"
"Fuck. When did you turn into such a pussy?" Aphasia interrupts, shaking her head.
"Shut up. I could still beat your ass."
"There's the Britt I know! You need to be so desirable that she can't stand not to have you. Make her so jealous that she quakes with anger when you so much as look at anyone else. Then milk the shit out of it."
Brittany smirks. "You know what? You're right. I get the girl!"
"You get the girl!" Aphasia repeats.
Feeling empowered, Brittany stands up. She's determined to get her girl.
"But when you do, promise you won't forget about Mack and me again, mmkay? We need our smoking buddy."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll always need a smoke." Brittany winks before heading back into the school. She has a plan, and the first step is talking to Ms. Holliday.
Quinn can feel the tension (sexual or otherwise) between the two girls sitting on either side of her. However, their bodies are exuding completely opposite emotions. While Santana looks sad, angry, and drained, Brittany seems excited. She's tapping her pen impatiently and wearing a mischievous smirk. Add in the fact that they keep glancing over her to look at each other, and Quinn feels pretty damn awkward.
Finally, Ms. Holliday waltzes into the classroom. "Hola clase!" she greets, as usual. "I have a surprise for you!" Wondering if her news will be good or bad, everyone exchanges questioning glances. "We're having a surprise dress rehearsal!" As expected, everyone groans and curses openly. "Hey hey, relax! This won't count for a grade. I just want to see your progress and give some pointers. No props, no costumes, and you can even use a script! Volunteers first, then victims."
"Do we have to do this, Ms. H?" Puck complains.
"Yes, Puck! It was the wonderful idea of a student, whose name I will not reveal." She winks at Brittany, whom the class stares at, utterly confused. Now that they know it was her idea, however, no one says anything out of fear of getting their ass kicked. "Alright, volunteers?"
The room is completely silent.
Holly sighs. "Victims, then."
Everyone watches as some nameless classmates make fools of themselves. "This is so embarrassing," Quinn whispers as they butcher a scene from The Twelfth Night.
When they finish, Ms. Holliday gives her feedback. "Well, that was really...screw it, you guys need work. If it still looks like that on Friday, I'm failing all of you. Mike, Brittany, you're up next."
Jumping out of her seat, the blonde grabs Mike's hand and drags him to the front of the classroom. Santana's fist clenches at the realization that they're probably going to kiss. Grabbing her hand in concern, Quinn immediately regrets it when she feels how hard she's gripping.
"Why didn't you write me? Why?" Brittany is actually a surprisingly good actress. "I waited for you for seven years, and now it's too late!"
Mike isn't too bad either. "I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote to you every single day for a year!"
"You wrote me?"
Oh shit, here it comes, Quinn thinks, the hand around hers squeezing even tighter. Brittany shoots the slightest smirk in Santana's direction.
"Yes! It wasn't over. It still isn't over." Mike grabs the blonde's face and gives her a big, open-mouthed kiss.
Clutching him closer, Brittany kisses him back. Hard.
Quinn thinks her hand is going to break. "Shit. Santana!" she gasps, trying to yank her hand away in vain as the brunette crushes it in a jealous rage.
Santana feels like she's dying inside. All she can see is Brittany kissing someone else, right in front of her. Suddenly, it all clicks into place: Brittany wanting a dress rehearsal, smirking at her, making out with Mike...the blonde is trying to get a rise out of her. And it's working.
Suddenly, Quinn's hand doesn't hurt so much. "Wait, stop!" she tries.
However, Santana is already up and making her way to the kissing couple, looking like she's on a warpath. The whole class just stares in awe; this is some damn good drama. Santana quickly yanks them apart with a barely audible "hey!" from Brittany, who smiles wildly when she realizes who stopped their makeout session. Without a word, Santana roughly grabs the blonde's arm and pulls her into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind them.
Finally! Quinn inwardly cheers, rubbing her hand.
"Well, it appears that somebody is not over their ex," Rachel comments.
Out in the hallway, Santana is fuming. "What the fuck, Brittany?!" she yells at the blonde, who just grins. "Will you stop with that goddamn smile?!" She screams it, but it comes out more like a plea. That beautiful smile makes her weak. "Why are you doing this to me?" she sighs heavily.
"Doing what?" Brittany asks innocently.
"Kissing Mike! Seriously, you know the effect you have on me!"
Suddenly, Brittany goes from smiling to seething. "No, I don't, because you haven't told me! I've told you how I feel. I want to be with you!"
"I do want to be with you!" Santana snaps.
Brittany looks at her, hardly daring to believe it. "Then why won't you?" she practically whispers.
"My parents. They're just...you don't know what they're like."
"So, what, you're going to hide who you are for the rest of your life? That's miserable."
"You would know, huh?" Santana scoffs.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You act like this slutty, untouchable badass, but in reality, you're sweet and kind and caring. I'm not the only one that's hiding."
"You know why I do that, Santana. My dad hit me."
"I know, but can't you see that, in a way, it's the same for me? I'm terrified of what my parents will do to me if I..." she trails off, hanging her head. This is all just too damn hard. "One day, I hope I can be honest with them, but for now, please. Just...give me a little time," she practically begs.
Brittany's heart is breaking with sympathy for the poor girl. She feels so bad for her, she just wants to hold her in her arms and never let go. "Okay. Fine," she finally relents. "But we can still be friends, right?"
Santana thinks for a second. "I don't think I can handle being away from you completely, so yeah. We can still be friends."
"Yay!"
"Just stop trying to make me jealous, okay? I might go insane."
"Okay," Brittany chuckles, then bites her lower lip in the most adorable, nervous way. "Friends can hug, right?"
Santana gives her a watery smile. "Yeah, friends can hug."
Immediately, Brittany wraps her up in a tight hug, engulfing Santana with that scent that drives her crazy with an odd mix of comfort and want. Before she can do anything stupid, Santana tries to pull away.
"No, just a little more," Brittany whines, tightening her arms
"Britt..."
The blonde sighs before releasing her with a reluctant, "Okay."
Just then, the bell rings, signaling that school is out.
"What the hell happened?" Quinn asks, pushing people out of the way to reach her two friends.
"We're friends," Santana states.
"Just friends," Brittany clarifies.
Skeptical, Quinn just looks back and forth between them. Yeah, right.
Besides, Brittany Pierce is no quitter. She is going to get her girl.
