In the two years since the slushie incident, Santiago had become a stranger to her, worse, a tormentor. By tenth grade, Santiago's attitude had taken over every aspect of his life. His grades plummeted, and rumors swirled around school about parties, fights, and even police warnings. Brittany sometimes caught glimpses of him in the hallways, smirking with his group, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, exuding an aura of careless confidence. He was now someone she could barely stand to look at. Her once-best friend had become her greatest source of pain.
Friday afternoons were usually a relief for Brittany—a chance to escape the intensity of the week and retreat into the quiet of her home. This Friday, however, was different. As she walked up the front steps to her house, her backpack slung over one shoulder, she noticed something off immediately. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear muffled voices inside. Pushing the door open gently, she stepped inside, her brow furrowing in confusion as she caught sight of her mother, Whitney, sitting on the living room couch.
Next to her, sobbing quietly into a tissue, was Maribel Lopez.
Brittany froze in the entryway, her heart sinking. Maribel had always been a strong woman, bright, cheerful, and quick to laugh. It was rare to see her anything less than put together, but now, as she sat hunched over, her shoulders trembling with each shaky breath, she seemed utterly broken. Whitney was leaning close to her, an arm around Maribel's shoulders, murmuring soft words of comfort.
"I just... I don't understand," Maribel choked out, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Twenty-one years old, Whitney. She's just a girl." Whitney rubbed Maribel's back soothingly, her voice was soft but steady. "I'm so sorry, Maribel. I don't even know what to say... I can't believe he would do something like this."
They hadn't noticed Brittany yet, and for a moment, she considered slipping back out the door. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be here, to hear what was unfolding in the living room as she tried to process what she had just overheard, but her thoughts were jumbled, tangled in disbelief and shock. Antonio Lopez had always seemed so polished, so composed—a successful plastic surgeon with a charismatic charm that could fill any room. He was the kind of man people admired. The kind of man people trusted.
Maribel let out another shaky sob, pulling the tissue from her hand to dab at her red, swollen eyes. "Twenty-one," she repeated, her voice full of disbelief and pain. "I thought we were happy. I thought we had a good life. And now he's with... someone young enough to be our daughter."
There was a heavy silence that followed those words. Brittany's pulse quickened as the reality of what was happening hit her fully. She had known the Lopez family for as long as she could remember. Brittany's fingers trembled as she adjusted her backpack on her shoulder. She knew she needed to move, needed to go upstairs before anyone noticed her standing there. She shouldn't be hearing any of this. It wasn't meant for her ears. But her feet felt like lead, refusing to cooperate.
"I'm just... so lost, Whitney," Maribel said softly, her voice filled with so much heartbreak that Brittany almost winced. "I don't know what I'm going to do. He's gone, and I didn't even see it coming."
Whitney's response was lost as Brittany finally willed herself to move. She took a tentative step backward, praying that the floor wouldn't creak and give her away. She didn't want to be caught standing there, eavesdropping on her mother and Maribel's pain. Slowly, she turned and made her way toward the staircase, moving as quietly as she could, her heart still racing.
When Brittany finally reached her room, she pushed the door closed behind her and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. Her backpack slid from her shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud, but she barely noticed. Her thoughts were too loud, too frantic. She sank onto her bed, staring blankly at the wall, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her.
Antonio was gone. He had left Maribel for someone young enough to be Brittany's sister. The idea of it gnawed at her, twisting in her chest like a cruel, relentless knot. How could someone do that? How could someone so selfishly destroy their family like that? And what did this mean for Santiago?
Brittany didn't have to wait long to witness the fallout from Lopez's family situation. It seemed as if the news had rattled something deep inside of him, shifting his already volatile behavior into something far more reckless. If his bullying had been bad before, now it felt as if he had nothing left to lose. He lashed out at anyone in his path, and unfortunately, his cruelty extended beyond his usual targets.
It was a dreary Wednesday morning, and the gray skies outside seemed to match the mood inside Brittany's school. The halls were crowded as students made their way to class, chattering about their weekends or flipping through notes for a last-minute study session. Brittany was at her locker, methodically organizing her books for the day when she noticed Kurt walking toward her from the corner of her eye. He was slouched, his face pale and drawn, and his clothes, usually pristine, were rumpled and slightly stained. It was unusual to see Kurt in such a disheveled state.
"Kurt?" she called softly, stepping away from her locker as he approached. He lifted his head, his eyes tired and his shoulders sagging as though the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He sighed heavily, the kind of sigh that comes when someone is just too tired to keep up appearances any longer. "Santiago," he muttered, his voice dripping with exhaustion. "He threw me in the trash. Again."
Brittany's heart sank. Kurt had been one of Santiago's frequent targets in recent months so without a word, she stepped forward and pulled him into a gentle hug, trying to offer him a sliver of comfort in the middle of the chaos. Kurt leaned into her embrace, his body tense and tired.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine sympathy. "It's fine," Kurt mumbled into her shoulder, though she knew it wasn't. It was never fine, not really. "I'm used to it."
Before she could respond, Brittany felt a sharp shove from behind, forcing her body to slam hard against her locker. The cold metal rattled loudly, and the suddenness of it left her breathless for a moment. Her head snapped back to see Santiago standing behind her, his face twisted in anger. His eyes were dark, wild with a fury that seemed to burn deeper than usual, as though he was barely holding onto whatever restraint he had left.
"Move out of the way, Pierce" he growled, pushing past her without so much as an apology. His shoulder slammed into her as he stormed through the hallway, his steps heavy with frustration and resentment. He didn't even bother to look back, too consumed by whatever storm was raging inside of him.
Brittany stood frozen for a moment, her back still pressed against the cool metal of the locker, her breath shaky. She could feel Kurt standing beside her, equally rattled by the encounter. But this time, there was no playful banter to ease the tension. There was no joking about Santiago's cruelty. It was just raw pain and confusion.
Rachel approached, her brow furrowed in concern as she reached Brittany and Kurt. She placed a gentle hand on Brittany's arm, her voice laced with worry. "Are you okay?"
Brittany nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure if she was. Physically, she was fine, but emotionally? She felt drained and exhausted from constantly being caught in Santiago's path of destruction. She knew why he was lashing out but knowing the cause didn't make the sting of his actions hurt any less.
Rachel's expression softened as she glanced down the hall, where Santiago had disappeared into the crowd. "I've heard rumors," she said quietly, as though speaking too loudly might somehow summon Santiago back. "That his parents split up. Did you know?"
Brittany hesitated, her stomach twisting at the question. It wasn't her place to spread that kind of information, even if it seemed everyone already knew. And truthfully, Brittany didn't want to get involved in Santiago's mess any more than she already was. "I've... heard things," Brittany said carefully, shrugging as if it didn't matter. As if Santiago's personal life wasn't something that had haunted her thoughts ever since she'd overheard Maribel's sobs. "But I don't really know anything for sure."
Rachel gave her a sympathetic look, understanding that Brittany was trying to distance herself from the situation. Kurt straightened up beside them, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from his encounter with Santiago. "Let's just get to class," he said with a forced smile, clearly trying to move on from the morning's events.
The bleachers had always been one of Brittany's favorite escapes. Tucked away from the rest of the school, they offered a secluded, quiet space where she could breathe, think, and, most importantly, be alone. In the chaotic whirl of high school, where everyone seemed to have an opinion, a whisper, or a judgment, Brittany found peace in the stillness of the empty sports field. It was where she could focus, collect her thoughts, and, on days like today, study for her upcoming tests without the distraction of people around her.
She sat there, legs crossed on the weathered metal bench, her textbook open on her lap, a notebook balanced on her knee. The faint scent of grass and earth rose from the field below, blending with the crispness of the early afternoon air. The bleachers stretched out above her, empty save for the occasional flutter of paper caught in the breeze. It was the kind of silence that allowed her to think, the kind she craved. Her pen moved steadily across the page, jotting down notes, the rustle of pages the only sound in the otherwise serene space.
Time seemed to slow when she was here. It always had. This place, hidden from the usual hustle of school life, felt like her own private bubble, where no one could reach her, where the troubles of the day couldn't touch her.
Brittany sighed, turning a page in her textbook, trying to refocus. But just as she started to concentrate again, she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. Her bubble of solitude was suddenly punctured by an unexpected presence.
It was Santiago.
He moved toward her slowly, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket, his head down as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He didn't look at her as he approached, his gaze fixed somewhere far off, his footsteps heavy on the metal bleachers. For a split second, Brittany considered gathering her things and leaving before he got any closer. She didn't want another confrontation. She wasn't in the mood for his anger or for his cruelty, which had only grown worse in recent weeks.
But something in the way he walked stopped her. There was none of the usual arrogance in his posture, none of the fiery energy she had come to expect from him. He seemed deflated, almost like a balloon that had lost all its air. So, instead of running, she stayed.
Santiago reached the row of bleachers where Brittany sat, pausing for a moment as though debating whether or not to join her. Without a word, he sat down a few feet away, leaving a wide gap between them. Brittany remained silent, unsure of what to do or say. Her pen was still poised over her notebook, though she had long stopped writing. She could feel the tension in the air between them, thick and heavy, but for once, it wasn't the kind that felt dangerous. It was just... sad.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He fumbled with it for a moment, drawing out a single cigarette before lighting it with a flick of his lighter. The tiny flame danced for a moment before he put it to the end of the cigarette, taking a slow, deep drag. He exhaled, the smoke curling up into the air in lazy spirals. His eyes, usually so filled with anger and defiance, were downcast, almost vacant.
They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. The only sound was the occasional rustle of wind through the bleachers and the soft crackle of the cigarette as Santiago took another drag. Brittany stared at her textbook, though the words were nothing more than a blur in front of her. She wasn't reading anymore. How could she, with him sitting right there?
Without meaning to, Brittany sighed, the sound soft but loud enough to break the silence between them. Santiago glanced at her, just briefly, before looking away again. He took another long drag of his cigarette, his lips parting as the smoke flowed out slowly. "I didn't think you'd be here" he muttered, his voice low and rough, as though it hadn't been used much recently.
Brittany didn't respond right away. What was she supposed to say to that? She hadn't expected him to be here either. After a moment, she spoke, her voice quiet. "I come here to study sometimes."
He nodded, taking in the information without really reacting to it. Another beat of silence passed before he flicked the ash from his cigarette and muttered, "I used to come here to think." Brittany wasn't sure if that was meant to be a conversation starter or just an offhand comment, but she found herself replying anyway. "It's a good place for that."
He nodded again, still staring out at the empty field in front of them. He looked so different now, sitting there with the cigarette dangling between his fingers, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of everything in his life was pulling him down. This wasn't the Santiago she knew—or rather, had known. This wasn't the charming, confident boy who used to be her closest friend, the one who could light up a room with just a smile.
This Santiago was broken.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, together but apart, until finally, Santiago broke the silence. "I guess you've heard, huh?" His voice was quieter now, almost a whisper. He didn't need to elaborate on what he meant—Brittany knew exactly what he was talking about. His family. His dad.
"Yeah," she said softly, keeping her eyes on her notebook, though her focus was nowhere near her notes. He took another long drag of his cigarette before flicking it away, watching as the glowing ember faded into the distance. "Everyone's talking about it," he muttered bitterly. "Like it's some kind of gossip."
Brittany didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't deny it—people were talking. But she couldn't blame them either. It wasn't every day that a well-known plastic surgeon left his wife for someone half his age. And in a town like theirs, where everyone knew everyone else's business, something like that was bound to spread like wildfire.
"It sucks," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Santiago let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah. It does."
They sat in silence again, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavily between them. Brittany wondered if this was it—if this was all that was left of the friendship they once had. Just awkward silences and bitter conversations about things they couldn't control.
And yet, as they sat there on the bleachers, side by side but worlds apart, Brittany couldn't help but feel like maybe—just maybe—there was still a part of the old Santiago left in there somewhere.
Brittany sighed quietly, her breath barely more than a whisper against the wind. Her gaze dropped back to her notebook, but the words on the page blurred together, becoming nothing more than a jumble of black ink. Her pen hovered over the page, and then, without even thinking about it, she spoke.
"I miss you."
The words were soft, almost too soft to be heard, but they carried the weight of all the emotions she had been holding back for so long. She wasn't even sure why she had said it maybe it was the lingering hope that somewhere, deep down, Santiago missed her.
For a moment, he didn't react. His eyes stayed fixed on the horizon, unblinking as if he hadn't heard her. Brittany's heart sank, a familiar wave of disappointment washing over her. She thought about standing up, walking away, leaving him to whatever storm was raging inside of him. But then, just as she was about to give up he turned.
His gaze met hers, and there was something in his eyes that made her heart stutter. It wasn't the anger she had grown used to seeing, or the detached coolness he usually wore like armor. It was something softer, something that reminded her of the boy he used to be. He smiled, but it was a sad, almost broken smile, one that barely reached his eyes.
Before she could speak again, Santiago stood up. The sound of the bleachers creaking under his weight as he shifted broke the fragile silence between them. Brittany watched him, her eyes searching his face for some sign that he might stay, that this conversation wasn't over. But he didn't meet her gaze again. He turned, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, and without another word, he walked away.
She sighed heavily, her gaze drifting back to the field in front of her closing her textbook, giving up on studying for the moment. What was the point, anyway?
Brittany sat in the back row of her math class, the familiar scribble of pencils and quiet murmurs surrounding her as the teacher explained a complex equation on the board. Math was one of her favorite subjects—something about the order of numbers and the satisfaction of solving problems felt calming like everything had a solution if you just worked hard enough. But today, her mind was elsewhere, distracted by the boy two seats in front of her who was once again staring out the window, utterly disinterested in the lesson.
Santiago Lopez.
Brittany wasn't sure if it had been a dream or a brief lapse in his usual behavior when he hadn't been awful to her on the bleachers that one afternoon a few weeks back. For a fleeting moment, it had seemed like the old Santiago but almost immediately after, everything had gone back to the way it was. No, scratch that - it had gotten worse.
Santiago's behavior in school had spiraled even more in the last few weeks. He was rude to teachers, and disruptive in class, and it seemed like getting sent to the principal's office had become part of his daily routine. If there was a line between rebellious and self-destructive, Santiago had crossed it long ago. And Brittany, despite her best efforts to ignore him and focus on herself, couldn't help but notice. It was impossible not to.
"Lopez, can you explain this part of the equation?" Mrs. Thorne, their math teacher, asked, clearly growing tired of Santiago's inattentiveness.
Santiago didn't even bother turning around to face the board. His gaze stayed fixed on the window as if he hadn't heard her at all. "Santiago?" Mrs. Thorne's voice was firmer now, her patience wearing thin.
With a dramatic sigh, Santiago finally turned his head, his dark eyes flicking to the front of the room with a look that screamed annoyance. "No," he said flatly. "I can't." This was the routine now, Mrs. Thorne would ask him a question, Santiago would refuse to engage, and the class would awkwardly move on. She watched as Mrs. Thorne pursed her lips, trying to keep her composure, but it was clear that even she was running out of ideas on how to handle him.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and students immediately began packing up their things. Brittany was no exception, already shoving her notebook and pencil case into her bag, ready to escape to her next class. But just as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and stood up, Mrs. Thorne's voice called out over the bustle.
"Santiago, can you stay behind for a moment?" But then, to her surprise, Mrs. Thorne's eyes landed on her. "Brittany, you too."
Confusion flashed across her face. Why was she being asked to stay? She hadn't done anything wrong if anything, she was one of the few students in the class paying attention. Reluctantly, she made her way to the front of the room, slinging her bag onto one shoulder as she stood a few feet away from Santiago.
Mrs. Thorne let the last few students file out of the room before she sighed and looked between them. "I've been thinking," she began, clasping her hands in front of her. "Santiago, it's clear you're struggling in this class."
Santiago snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Struggling? I'm not even trying." Mrs. Thorne raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused by his attitude. "Exactly. This is why, if you want to pass this class, something has to change. I'm not going to let you slide by without doing the work, and right now, you're on track to fail."
Santiago rolled his eyes, his body language radiating apathy. "So what? I'll fail. Not the end of the world." Mrs. Thorne didn't let him off that easily. "It's more than just a grade, Santiago. It's about your future. You can't keep skipping assignments and ignoring the lessons. You're capable of more than this." She paused, her gaze softening as she turned toward Brittany. "And that's where you come in."
Brittany blinked, caught off guard. "Me?"
"Yes, you," Mrs. Thorne nodded. "You're one of the top students in this class, Brittany. You understand the material well, and I've noticed you've helped a few of your classmates before. I was hoping you could tutor Santiago. Help him get back on track before it's too late."
For a second, Brittany was stunned into silence. The idea of it was laughable, ridiculous even. She opened her mouth to protest but before she could say a word, Santiago beat her to it.
"Are you kidding me?" He scoffed, his voice dripping with disbelief. "I'd rather die than have her tutor me." Brittany shot him a glare, her patience already wearing thin. "Well, the feeling's mutual," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest.
Mrs. Thorne sighed, clearly anticipating this kind of resistance. "Listen, Santiago. I know you two have your differences, but this isn't about your personal issues. This is about passing the class. If you don't start putting in some effort, you're going to fail."
Santiago shrugged. "Like I said, not a big deal."
"Maybe not to you, but it should be," Mrs. Thorne replied, her tone firm. "Brittany, would you at least consider it? I really think you could help him."
Brittany felt her stomach twist. She didn't want to help him. Not after everything he had done, not after the way he had treated her. But as much as she wanted to say no, there was something in Mrs. Thorne's eyes a kind of desperate hope that made her hesitate.
Finally, with a resigned sigh, she said, "Fine. I'll tutor him. But only if he actually puts in the effort." Santiago rolled his eyes again, looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. "Whatever."
Mrs. Thorne offered a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Brittany. And Santiago, I expect you to take this seriously. No more skipping out, no more excuses."
He didn't respond, just turned on his heel and stormed out of the classroom, leaving Brittany standing there with an exasperated sigh. She already knew this was going to be a disaster.
She gripped the straps of her backpack tightly as she finally left the school building, but as she reached the front steps of the school, heading towards the bus stop, her hopes of a peaceful ending to her day were dashed almost immediately. Santiago stood near the exit, leaning casually against the wall with his group of friends clustered around him. Puck, Finn, and Dave, the usual crowd, all laughing and joking as if the world outside their little bubble didn't exist. Brittany tried to slip past unnoticed, her head down and her pace quickening, but it was no use.
She felt a sudden, sharp tug at her backpack, yanking her backward with enough force that she stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a split second, all she could hear was the roaring in her ears and the laughter of the boys surrounding her.
Brittany turned around, heart pounding, her face flushing with humiliation. Santiago stood there, smirking, with one hand still gripping the strap of her backpack. "You forgot something," he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
She blinked, utterly confused. "What are you talking about?"
Without another word, Santiago pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his bag and shoved it into her chest with enough force to make her stagger back a step. It was his math homework. Brittany looked down at it, completely baffled, as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
"I expect an 80% score" he said, his tone laced with mock authority.
Her hands instinctively curled around the paper, her fingers tightening as she felt the hot sting of anger rising up in her chest. "I thought I was going to help you, not do your homework for you."
Santiago shrugged nonchalantly, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. "Get to work, nerd." His friends burst into laughter at his words, their voices ringing out like cruel echoes around them.
Brittany stood frozen, watching as the group sauntered off, she wanted to scream, to tear the homework in half and throw it in the nearest trash can. This was exactly what she had been afraid of. This was already a nightmare, and she was trapped in it now.
As the bus pulled up to the curb, Brittany finally moved, tucking Santiago's homework into her bag without a second glance. She boarded the bus, her mind racing with everything that had just happened. She found a seat near the back, her usual spot, and sank into it, leaning her head against the window as the bus rattled to life.
Brittany strode down the school hallway with more confidence than she had felt in weeks. The night before had been spent pushing aside her emotions, focusing on the satisfaction of completing Santiago's homework and mentally preparing herself for what came next. She wasn't just some pushover he could manipulate anymore. Not today. As she walked, a soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she held her head high. Rachel and Tina walked alongside her, chatting about their plans for the weekend, but Brittany was distracted, her mind focused on one thing: Santiago Lopez.
Spotting Santiago up ahead, leaning against his locker with his usual entourage but she didn't falter. They hadn't noticed her yet, and that suited her just fine. She approached them with purpose, her heart beating a little faster, but her face betrayed none of the anxiety she felt bubbling underneath. The laughter and banter between the boys faded as Brittany stepped right into their circle, cutting through their conversation.
Santiago looked up at her, his smirk already starting to form as if he expected her to cower, to shrink away like she had so many times before. But instead, Brittany thrust his completed homework towards him, holding it out in front of his chest.
"Here," she said flatly, her voice loud enough for his friends to hear. "And you're welcome."
The smirk on Santiago's face faltered, just for a moment, but it was enough to make Brittany feel like she'd won something. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away, heading towards her first class of the day. Rachel and Tina exchanged looks but quickly hurried after her, catching up just as they turned the corner.
"What was that about?" Rachel asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. Brittany shrugged, not wanting to go into too much detail. "Just handling some unfinished business," she said, her smile widening slightly.
The rest of the morning went by in a blur, It wasn't until math class that their paths crossed for the second time that day. As Brittany walked into the room, she felt the familiar pit in her stomach return. Santiago was already seated at his desk, tapping his pencil impatiently against his notebook. She tried to ignore him, heading towards her usual seat at the front, but before she could sit down, Mrs. Thorne's voice stopped her.
"Brittany, can you sit next to Santiago, please?" Her stomach dropped. She looked over at Santiago, whose eyes had narrowed into slits. Brittany felt every set of eyes in the classroom shift in their direction as if the entire class was waiting for what would happen next. She hesitated for just a second, but then nodded and made her way to the desk beside Santiago.
The walk felt longer than it should have, but she held her head high, refusing to let him intimidate her. As she took her seat, she felt Santiago's gaze boring into the side of her face. She could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, but she didn't acknowledge it. She focused on her notebook instead, preparing for class.
The hour dragged on, with Santiago remaining silent beside her, though she could sense his frustration growing with each passing minute. She ignored him, letting the class progress as usual. Mrs. Thorne lectured on about quadratic equations, while Brittany scribbled notes, her mind completely focused on the work in front of her.
When class was nearly over, Mrs. Thorne began handing back the marked homework assignments. Brittany smiled when she saw her paper, 100%, as she had expected. She had worked hard on it, and it felt good to see the results. As she glanced at Santiago's paper, though, her smile widened even more.
She heard the rustling of paper as Santiago flipped his assignment over. His face darkened as he stared at the big, red zero written at the top. His grip on the paper tightened, and before Brittany could brace herself, he turned to her, his voice low but full of venom.
"What the fuck, nerd?" he hissed, his words laced with barely-contained anger. "I said 80%."
Brittany slowly turned to face him, her expression calm despite the fury radiating off of him. "I'm your tutor, not your slave," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the air between them. She knew people were listening—she could see heads turning, whispers spreading through the room—but she didn't care. She wasn't about to back down.
"If you want my help, you're going to have to earn it," she added, her voice steady. "I'm not just going to hand you the answers because you want them."
A few of their classmates snickered quietly, and Santiago's eyes flicked around the room, realizing they were being watched. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and for a moment, Brittany thought he might explode. But instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes hard and calculating.
"You need me, Santiago," she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear, though her words carried a sting that felt louder than anything she'd ever said to him. "I don't need you. I never have. You've been nothing but a drain and a leech on everyone around you since the day you were unfortunately born."
The words were sharper than she intended, but Brittany didn't regret them. She had spent too long allowing Santiago to push her around, too long feeling small in his presence. But not today.
Santiago's eyes flashed with something that surprised her, a flicker of hurt that he quickly tried to mask. It was brief, but she saw it, and for a moment, she felt a small twinge of satisfaction. He could pretend to be invincible all he wanted, but she knew now that her words had reached him, even if just a little.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and the noise of chairs scraping against the floor filled the room as students began packing up their things. Brittany stood up, sliding her notebook into her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. She didn't wait for Santiago to respond, didn't give him a chance to snap back at her. She simply turned and walked out of the room, her heart still racing, but her head held high.
As she left, she could feel the eyes of her classmates on her and could hear the faint murmurs of surprise and admiration. It felt good to finally stand up to him, to reclaim a bit of the power he had taken from her over the years.
Rachel and Tina were waiting for her outside the classroom, both of them looking at her with wide eyes. "What was that?" Rachel asked her voice somewhere between impressed and shocked.
Brittany shrugged, though inside, she felt a surge of pride. "I'm just done with him," she said simply. "I'm done letting him treat me like dirt." Tina nodded slowly, a smile spreading across her face. "Good for you."