A/N: Hey! So sorry for taking a bajillion years to update. I've been way to busy at work lately. :/ But I promise not to take that long on another update. Also, this chapter is literally twice as long as my usual chapters! And it is the last chapter of season one. I'll be working a few summer chapters that will start out season 2. So keep an eye out for a new story I will be posting. I haven't yet decided what it'll be called...probably something similar to Must Be Felt (Maybe, Must Be Felt S2) Something like that. If you don't want to lose track of MBF it's probably best to just keep me as an "author alert".

Okay. So thank you everyone! This was excellent to write! I enjoyed it very much. When I started I only intended to do like 6-7 chapters...and look what it turned into! And now I plan on doing summer episodes, and writing for season 2! :)

Enjoy :)

Chapter 22 : Sucks

How did this happen? Just this morning at the diner everyone was obnoxiously excited about our chances at regionals and now we're all depressing black holes. Mr. Shue invited us over for a pizza party in hopes of lifting our spirits, but not even the lure of pizza after a long day of not eating is going to pull me back. I'm depressed and I'm the one who thinks Glee is for losers. I can't even imagine how anyone else is holding up. I can't even form a thought that doesn't involve how awful next year is going to be, and Britt and I have Cheerios. They have nothing.

At morning cheer practice Sue announced she was going to be a judge at the show choir regionals and she's going to destroy glee club. When Brittany and I didn't smirk along with the rest of the cheer-bots, she made us do wind sprints until one of us puked. My legs feel like Jell-O, the muscles in my back are achy, and my stomach is in knots (both from the bad news and from dry heaving).

Now, I can't even take proper sized gulps, because I feel like each swallow might be followed by a choked sob. And I can't cry. No way. Especially not after what happened in the hallway a week or so back. I can't let that kind of emotion overwhelm me again. Never again.

It was terrifying not knowing why I was crying before. Crying, not able to pinpoint a specific reason, event, conversation that sent me into hysteria. It was all too much at once. Every little fear, paranoia, what-if scenario, and possibility shoved itself in my face and stuffed itself down my throat.

My emotional detonation started innocently enough. First, I was crying because the other girls were crying. It made it okay. For some insane and illogical reason seeing them cry was the catalyst. A stupid, overdramatic girl is what caused me to short circuit. Just the sight of that one Cheerio visibly upset was enough to send me over the edge and into a deep and flooded ravine. It reminded me of being home alone at night and the moment I turned on a lamp, I had to turn on every other single lamp in the house. My feelings and fears tend to be a little gluttonous. Once they get a taste of something daunting they become greedy.

I'd wanted to cry long before that. Before I got to school that day and before I lied to my dad about going to cheer nationals. The moment Sue told me Cheerios was over, I wanted to crumple into a little ball. But I didn't want to scare Brittany, overwhelm her, or give her any other reason to walk on eggshells around me. Its bad enough I have to start fixing and patching up my post-sex panic attacks, I didn't want to have to worry about patching up the cheer thing too. I want to comfort her, as I've always done. I want her to curl up next to me at night. I want to be strong, because Isure as hell am strong.

In the hallway, after I'd seen the freshman Cheerio crying, I'd gotten my first taste of blood. I started panicking. It was sudden and crushing. In that instant I knew the rest of high school was going to be a hell-hole, especially after the girls found out Sue blamed me. I'd be shunned, humiliated, and even worse…I'd still be in Glee club. Right now being in Glee club is okay, because I'm head cheerleader, I'm the most popular girl in school, but the instant that changes I'm nothing other than a Rachel Berry-replica.

And then everything ignited.

I'm not known for rationalism. In fact, I'm known for my independence, insensitivity, candor, and willingness to let nothing get in my way. If I want something, there's nothing stopping me from getting it. These past few months I've wanted Brittany, and not even the fear of someone (my parents, the student body) finding out has stopped me. The rational thing would have been to take things slow, to talk about it. When I wanted popularity and power, I slept with Puckerman and every other guy along the way. When I wanted Brittany to stop crying, I joined Glee club.

But when I wanted to stop crying in the middle of the hallway, I couldn't. And the more I tried, the worse it got. It was that overpowering uncertainty that caused me to lose my footing. Not knowing if I was crying about the thought of losing Brittany. Losing our friendship. Changing our friendship. Not knowing if it was the thought of how my parents would react. What would they really say if they knew I fucked her? Not just cuddled with her, or kissed her on the cheek. Santana Lopez, on multiple occasions, has had sex with her best friend, a girl.

And that sudden previous and recent juke into an entirely different cauldron of fears is the exact reason I refuse to cry right now. I'll start crying about losing Glee club, and that will quickly alter into crying about my feelings for Britt. I will go to school naked before I cry in front of people, in public, ever again.

My vision wasn't focused on something specific. I was just zoning out. Thinking. Spacing. Wondering what next year will be like when I won't have a comfortable place to go to every day. Glee Club. Cheerios may be something I do, who I am, but it's not a place to relax. Not even my own home is a place to relax. Especially now with everything between me and Britt. I just can't imagine losing this. All of this. All of these people.

Quinn walked back into the room, caught the corner of my eye, and set a stack of paper plates on the table. She plopped down on the only open couch and sunk her eyes like the rest of us. She, of all people, was losing the most. She'd lost head cheerleader, lost her popularity, and now she was losing Glee. I'm just glad neither Britt nor I are in her position.

"Nobody wants any pizza?" Mr. Shue broke the silence like a whip. My body jolted from the intruding words, but when I scanned the room, nobody else seemed to react the way I did. It felt like every muscle inside my body clenched, but my instincts had kept me from dramatizing my reaction. Instead I contained the jump, held my breath, and focused on my knees.

Matt had pulled out a couple of chairs for me and Britt when we arrived, since everyone had taken all of the other seats. Truth be told, I'd almost not shown up. If it weren't for Brittany, and the thought of disappointing her, I would have blown it off. Why the hell would I willingly put myself through this humiliation/depression if I don't have something invested (Brittany)?

The room stayed silent. Nobody seemed to have noticed my reaction, which means they're probably still oblivious to how much I like Glee, and how much I don't want to lose it. That's a good thing. Next year will be a fresh start. I'll be head cheerleader. I won't have to worry about upholding my reputation and Glee Club at the same time, and won't have to worry about pretending to like these guys.

"All right, well, uh, let's get started." Mr. Shue continued. He clapped his hands together. "Thank you for coming to the first annual New Directions regionals set list nomination party."

"What's the point, Mr. Shue?" Artie spoke. His words were sullen and heavy. "Coach Sylvester is one of the judges. She's gonna crush us."

The mention of Coach Sylvester sent me leaping from my chair and towards the box of pizza. I need to keep busy to keep myself from crying. I can't sit here and listen to how that woman has so much power and control over my reputation and my future.

Mr. Shue spoke. "Artie, you don't know that."

Yes he does, because I told him. "Yes , we do." The words came out because I was both annoyed and on the verge of tears. It was frustrating to listen to Mr. Shue give us a false sense of hope. Brittany doesn't need that…she's too optimistic, and I don't want to see her any more upset. And I need to distract myself, say something, before I become too upset. But my words were shaky and heavy just like Artie's. "She told us at Cheerios practice." I walked back towards my seat and realized that I had forgotten to grab a piece of pizza.

"Yeah. She said, I'm going to crush Glee Club." Brittany said in a monotone. It was the first time she'd spoken since she asked me what flavor of Capri Sun I had wanted a few hours ago at her house. Her voice relaxed me a little. Knowing that she wasn't too depressed for words was a good thing.

"A whole freaking year. All that hard work for nothing." Puck mumbled. His honesty and disappointment took me back a little. He's the one that I thought wouldn't care. He never cares about stuff. At least, he pretends not to care.

Tina sniffled from the couch and took in two soft and shaky breaths. She was crying.

I held my own breath.

"I'm sorry." She apologized once she realized everyone was looking at her. She struggled to speak through her staccato gasps. "I just really love you guys."

My vision blurred. Terrified tears hung on desperately.

"You know how many Facebook friends I had before I joined Glee Club?" Tina continued. I let out a small laugh, remembering how excited Brittany got when she found someone else to add to her friend list. "Two. My parents." I let out another muted laugh when I remembered Brittany got even more excited at the thought of adding her parents. "Rachel was right. Being part of something special it made me special. I just can't believe it's gonna be over in a week."

"Wait." Finn sat up. He'd been resting on the couch's armest next to Rachel. His sanguinity quickly snapped me back from that slow sinking feeling. "Who says it's gonna be over?" Just listening to him speak was enough to let me put on my bitch façade.

"Please." Mercedes rolled her eyes. Thank goodness she was on the same page as me. "You think Puck and Santana are gonna even acknowledge my existence once we're not in Glee Club together anymore?" Mercedes made brief eye contact with me when she said my name.

Wait? What? Why am I put in the same category as Puck? …Wait…That's a good thing right? No. No it's not. Mercedes and I are friends. I think. She helped me once, at Mark's party. And she came over and helped with Britt's cooking show. But, she didn't say Britt's name just now. She just said me…

"She has a point." Puck's voice was soft and barely audible underneath Tina's sobs.

That film of tears coated my eyes again. That hurt. I'm not an open person, but I thought we had made a connection. I thought she kind of cared about me.

Brittany's hand pinched my knee. I jerked my eyes down to her fingers. I wanted to follow my eyes up her arm. Up her forearm, past her elbow, over her bicep, and finally make eye contact, but that was probably a bad idea. A horrible idea. I'd start crying and I'd look like a lunatic if I started crying. A crazy bi-polar, loony.

"Mr. Shuester?" Rachel sniffled. "Do you think instead of nominating songs," she forced back a cry, "We can just all go around the room and talk about things that we loved about Glee Club this year?" Her voice gradually swelled into a sob and cracked.

I carefully surveyed the room. I kept my head down, peeked through my eyelashes and noticed everyone else's eyes were still down. When I reached Mr. Shue, he was nearly in tears. His lips were tightly pinched and his jaw was clenched. Before he saw me I forced my eyes away and back down to my lap. Brittany's hand still squeezed my thigh. Her thumb pressed into the outside of my knee and her fingers tickled the crease on the inside where my leg was bent.

The gesture was completely innocent. Not even I thought twice about it being suggestive. But after Glee Club is over, am I going to have to worry about that again? Her innocent touch is only innocent because of our setting. With other people around, it'll be like starting all over with our comfort level. Will non-glee clubbers question something as innocent as Brittany comforting me?

"I liked those parachute pants." Brittany seemed to have taken Rachel's suggestion literally. "They kind of made me feel like a genie."

Nobody responded to this, but I remembered what she was talking about. After the whole Glist thing, she and a few of the others danced in the library. I even went and watched her perform that Sunday at the librarian's church. That Sunday she had offered to take me out to breakfast, so I reluctantly agreed to go. That's a lie. I would have gone without the breakfast offer.

Her thumb stroking faltered. I knew the genie comment was something to lighten the mood, but nobody had seemed to react to it the way she had planned. With her hand resting motionless on my knee, I folded my own hands and laid them on top of it. Her fingers were hot underneath my palm.

The instant I reciprocated her touch, I felt her body quiver. And it wasn't that pleasure-quiver that I've grown passionately addicted to. It was that quiver that I've always felt. The one that reminds me of how close we are, and have been for quite some time. It was that quiver that told me that she needed me, that she wanted my comfort, and that she was breaking apart. It was that quiver I'd felt after she admitted to sleeping with all those guys, and broke down in tattered sobs inside my car. It was that quiver that had made me call Quinn and coerce her into joining Glee Club.

That's what I need to do. I need to cheer Brittany up. I can do that. I'm good at that. Plus, it'll distract me and keep me from freaking out.

I hooked all ten of my fingers around her hand and squeezed softly. When she looked up at me I lifted the corner of my mouth and smiled.

She returned the smile, but her lips fell flat, her eyes were heavy. The next second her lips tucked in and her shoulders sagged.

Please don't cry Britt.

"We can't just give up guys." Finn returned with his pathetically annoying hopefulness. "Coach Sylvester isn't the only judge. We'll just have to work to impress the others."

I felt like standing up, elbowing him in the throat, and then either backhanding him or kneeing him in the groin (depending on how my previous blows affected him). We didn't need false hope, Brittany didn't need it.

"Well obviously you have no clue how influential she is Finn or you wouldn't say that. So shut the hell up." I snapped at him. "It's pathetic the way you talk. You're like a little golden retriever that hopes nobody will find it boring after it grows up from being a puppy. You just don't get it."

"Santana." Mr. Shue tried to interject and stop me.

"It's true." Puck nodded.

His encouragement sent me into another whirlwind. "Mmmhmm. Do we all remember when Finn thought he got Quinn pregnant." Puckerman instantly retracted, sunk into his seat, and I could tell I'd lost all of his support. But that didn't stop me. "You're," I gritted my teeth and squeezed Brittany's hand harder. "Uhg," I was frustrated that I couldn't find the proper word. I didn't want to say naïve, because Brittany was naïve. Naïve is innocent and sweet. It isn't Finn.

"Enough." Mr. Shue stepped in again. "We need to work together. This isn't going to help anything."

I squeezed Brittany's hand even tighter and laced the fingers on my left hand with hers. I used my other hand and cuffed her wrist.

"I," Rachel spoke up. Her voice was still shaky. "Santana may have a point. We can't get our hopes up." She stood up and flattened the folds and scrunches in her clothing. "I'm heading out. My dads are expecting me. Mercedes," She looked at Mercedes. "Kurt," She turned toward him. "You guys ready?"

Mercedes and Kurt exchanged a glance before turning to Mr. Shue.

"I guess." Mercedes shrugged. "She's our ride Mr. Shue."

He just nodded.

The three of them quietly left.

"Well Britts and I are gonna bounce. If Berry isn't here then it's probably embarrassing that I am." I tried to use the words to defend myself, but when nobody seemed to take offense I felt guilty. They'd either grown accustomed to my bitchiness or they knew I didn't mean it. "We're meeting tomorrow right?" I directed my question towards Mr. Shue.

He nodded.

"Okay," A heavy and suffocated sigh crawled up my throat. "Let's go Britt." I stood up, and as I did my fingers searched over the top of her hand until I was able to hook my pinky around hers. I squeezed tightly and she stood up with me.

"Bye guys." She waved with her free hand.

"Bye." Everyone still there mumbled in unison.

On that depressing note I led her out of Mr. Shuester's living room and out the front door. We wound through the apartment complex halls, took the stairs, and finally stepped out into the parking lot.

Our quick pace immediately decelerated into a saunter. Now that we were out of the building, we didn't really have anywhere to rush to, or away from.

"I'm hungry Santana." Brittany stopped. She snapped her pinky away from mine and clasped her hands in front of her. "I wanted pizza."

You should have grabbed some. Those were the words that I would have said to someone else. But not her, not now. Instead I felt guilty for dragging her away. "I thought you wanted to leave." I copied her and clasped my own hands. It was true. Britt doesn't like being sad, and she doesn't like drowning in that kind of atmosphere. "We can go back." Those words dug into my stomach as I said them. I didn't want to go back, especially after I'd made such a big scene. Crawling back would completely destroy me. But I'd do it if she wanted to. Hell, I'd come up with something clever enough to keep a pathetic unraveling thread hooked around my reputation.

She shook her head no and shuffled her feet. That's when I noticed we were standing in bark shavings and next to a baby tree held up by wooden planks and rope. She kicked, pinched, and flipped a piece of bark in between her feet until it was balancing on the toe of her white cheer shoe.

"We can go get pizza?" I suggested. That gnawing guilt was still digging into my stomach.

She shrugged.

I started to look around, as if the surroundings would give me some sort of answer. I was desperate. I needed a way to cheer her up. Think, think, think. My car was parked a few parking spots away next to Puckerman's car and an empty spot where Rachel's car used to be. A shovel was stuck into the bark across the lot, right next to an overturned wheelbarrow.

"What about Breadstix? We'll just eat unlimited breadsticks, drink water, and share a slice of cheesecake. It'll cost us like two bucks."

She smiled, and not that reserved and sunken smile she gave inside of Mr. Shue's apartment. It was a sheepish and agreeing smile.

"Perfect." I said and reached for her hand. This time instead of linking my pinky with hers, I linked all of my fingers with hers. It seemed to take her by surprise and allowed me to pull her along. "And," I looked over at the wheelbarrow for a second time, "I have an excellent idea."

We hoped out of the bark and onto the pavement. When we reached my car, she rounded to the passenger side and I opened the driver door. "We're gonna need that," I pointed to the rusted wheelbarrow behind us. "It should fit in the back seat I think."

Brittany raised an eyebrow, but didn't really question me any further. I'm sure from experience she's learned that my off-the-wall ideas usually turn out to be kind of fun and adventurous. Or maybe, since her last idea turned out to be so climactic then this one probably would too. Of course, my plan didn't really involve something we'd do without clothes on, but that doesn't mean I can't work it in somehow.

I felt my face cringe at my next thought. Bare skin inside that wheelbarrow…God I hope I'm up-to-date on my tetanus shots.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asked over the roof of my car.

I snapped my attention back towards her. "Oh," the thought washed away quickly. "Just thinking." I paused and decided to redirect the conversation. "I'll just back up to it, so we don't have to carry it that far."

"Can't we just wheel it…?" Brittany asked.

Two approaching and slapping feet interrupted. I spun around and saw Puckerman jogging up to us. "Hey," He said breathless. "Glad I caught you guys." He stopped. "I'm having a party at my place. My mom just called and said she was gonna be out of town." Translation: I wanna get drunk and fuck you. "So just head that way whenever."

"What about your baby mamma?" I looked him up and down. The question held so many meanings that I couldn't even begin to count. Won't Quinn be mad? So you're still trying to get with me after you were being secretive at the diner this morning? What about what happened last time we tried to do something and I bailed on you?

Apparently he didn't care. "Girl please." He scoffed. "Yeah she's my baby's mamma, but that doesn't mean shit, and it doesn't mean I can't party." When I didn't answer he began to question. "What, you have some prior commitment keeping you?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What?" The word came out a little too loud, and a little too defensive. "No." That's a little more controlled. "I have plans with Britt. And we have school tomorrow." I turned and looked over at Brittany and her puppy dog eyes.

"Well hussy your plans on over to my place. I'm sure I'll find some way to make it up to you." This time it was his turn to check me out. And still, after everything with Brittany, that look from him shook my knees. It was nothing compared to what Brittany did to me, but Puckerman still was a hell of a sweet talker.

"Whatever." Yes. "We might stop by if we have time." We'll stop by after dinner. "You better have good alcohol there."

I dropped down in the car and slammed the door on him. Brittany followed and closed her door with a little less umph.

Puckerman walked in front of my car and hoped into his own.

"Did you want to go?" I finally asked Brittany. Her response was the deciding factor. But I knew she wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity. She was too much of a people person, too outgoing. It's not that she never says no, but she just never wants to say no to an invitation.

"Yeah sure."

xxxXXXxxXXXxxx

We sat ourselves in a secluded booth. It was the same booth we had been in on our date with Finn. We even sat on the same side of the table. Something we've always done, probably because we're so used to sitting beside each other. Besides, it made it way easier to share the marinara sauce.

"Do you really think we won't win?" Brittany asked me.

"I think that Sue thinks that." I shrugged. "Maybe."

"Would we have won a ring? Like in football?" She stabbed her breadstick into the bowl of marinara. It clanked against the ceramic. "Rachel should wear it, because that whispering eye probably has the least affect on her if she's the one related to Frodo."

"I think just a trophy." A smile snuck up and caught my lips. Brittany always knew how to make me smile, whether she was serious or not. Breadstix was my way of cheering her up, but that doesn't mean I was completely cheerful myself. In fact, the exact opposite. "Whispering eye?"

She shrugged and I saw that same sneaky smile catch her lips. Of course she knew what she was implying.

"You like Glee right?" She asked the question without looking up. It was a question that came out as more of a statement. Probably because she already knew my answer.

"Yeah. I guess. It's fun." I admitted to her. The only one I'd ever admit that to, and not follow it by a distracting insult.

"So what are we going to do next year?" A deafening crunched echoed from her teeth as she bit the marinara coated breadstick.

"P.E. We did that before we joined Glee. It'll practically give us a free period." I reached and grabbed the last breadstick.

"I don't want to join P.E." Brittany pouted. "Everyone always made me play basketball because I'm tall." Her mouth was full of the brittle bread.

"P.E. is lame compared to Glee." I responded.

"I just didn't get that hand in the cookie jar thing. Why would I only put one hand in when I'm trying to grab cookies?" She dragged the back of her hand across her lips and swept away escaping crumbs.

"Hmm?" Her explanation didn't quite register. I just wasn't on my A game tonight. "You want cookies?"

"Well, yes." She shrugged and stuffed the rest of her breadstick into her mouth. "That's always true."

"Instead of cheesecake?" My mind was starting to muddle. My thoughts weren't coherent. I was exhausted. I needed alcohol and sleep.

"I could eat a cheesecake." She swallowed what was in her mouth and a flash of pain crossed her face, meaning she hadn't chewed the breadstick thoroughly. "Owe."

"Hey." I called towards a passing waitress. She took two steps, slowed, and reluctantly turned toward us. "Can you bring us our cheesecake now?" I plastered on an annoyed, you better hurry or I'll make a scene, fake smile. "And we gots places to be so bring it in a to-go box or whatever."

The waitress turned without responding.

"Oh." I remembered something. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed the wheelbarrow was still empty. "You need to fill that up still. And don't put the breadsticks against the bare metal, because it's not clean and I have no clue what was hauled around in it before."

I turned to Brittany. Her eyes were wide and gawking at the wheelbarrow. "You can just put them in those little basket things right?" She looked up at the waitress. "Or line the wheelbarrow with toilet paper. I do that to toilet seats before I pee." She took a second to think.

When Brittany looked to me I nodded and shot my gaze back towards the waitress. "Run along." I waved and gestured for her to turn around and leave us.

Brittany started to chew on the straw inside her empty water glass. "I hope she doesn't use the toilet seat liners. They have holes in them." Brittany said.

The waitress returned before I had a chance to respond to Brittany.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be able to fill your…wheelbarrow." She hissed the last word, but quickly retracted when I whipped a dangerous look at her. "The breadsticks are for dine-in customers only."

"Are you for real right now lady?" I straightened my back. Brittany pulled her teeth away from her straw. "What the hell do you think we're doing right now?"

She glanced around the restaurant at the on looking customers before responding. And when she spoke her voice was noticeably softer. "You can eat as many breadsticks as you'd like while you're dining in, but they're not something you can take with you."

Brittany started to suck on her bottom lip.

I laughed. I felt all of my anger, frustration, and disappointment from today building up. "Okay." I nodded at her and smiled. A smile that highlighted all of my hidden agendas and sent her turning on her heel and back to the kitchen.

"So, no breadsticks." Brittany returned to chewing on her straw. "That's okay I guess." She didn't look too disappointed and I could tell she was trying her best to diffuse the situation.

All of my anger evaporated. If she wasn't upset about the breadsticks, then why was I? The whole point of this trip was to cheer her up.

xxxXXXXXXxxxXXXxXX

When I parked my car outside of Puckerman's house I was a little shocked by how many people were at already here. Literally less than two hours ago he found out he was going to have the house to himself, and now cars were lined up down the street and his house looked packed. Excellent.

I waited for Brittany to walk around the car, linked pinkies with her again, and started across the front lawn.

"Wouldn't that be cool if people had to sing every time they wanted someone to teach them something?" Brittany spoke loudly over the song.

I turned to her and raised both eyebrows. Before I responded I gave myself a second to process, but the only thing I could hear was the pounding rap song resounding throughout Puckerman's house, and squeezing out the cracked front door. Teach Me How To Dougie.

"Oh." I laughed a little.

"Like I can totally see Rachel doing that. Teach me how to stalk Finn." Brittany sang along with the song, but changed the ending.

We stepped up onto the front porch and by now the music was way too loud for me to respond. So I just turned to her and grinned. I think she was now beating me with regards to the Rachel insult generator marathon. I'll have to think of a few clever things by the end of the night if I want to keep things competitive.

I pushed open the front door and the music swallowed my ears. It was way louder than last time I'd been here with Brittany. My stomach turned at that thought, and it turned again when I figured I'd have to lean even further into her ear when I spoke this time.

Wait. Holy shit. Why didn't I think of this before? With everything that has happened between me and Brittany what was going to happen tonight? One of the last time we had been drunk around each other, I took a body shot off of her, I acted jealously overprotective about guys around her, I nearly cried when she walked out of the bathroom with Mark, and we almost kissed in her bedroom. This was all pre-everything. And then the most recent time we had sex in Mark's pool and I turned into a mute drunk. How the hell am I going to control myself now?

My pulse started to thunder and my nerves began to prickle. It felt like my entire body had fallen asleep and someone was trying to wake me up by sticking me with millions of little needles. I couldn't decide if I was more excited, nervous, or terrified of what was going to happen between us. Alcohol tends to blur that line between private and public emotions.

But maybe nothing would happen. Maybe we'd just get a little drunk, head back to my place, and fall asleep.

"Yeah right…" I said this out loud.

Brittany must have seen my lips move, because she leaned into me. Her words tickled the folds of my ear as her voice slipped across my hypersensitive skin. "What'd you say?"

She held her lips close just for a second longer. A second longer than a friend usually would. And then she pulled back. To anyone else, it looked like she was still talking to me. But the instant I felt her breath tease me and I knew what she was planning for tonight.

And the plan seemed so simple. Get drunk. Hang out. And flirt. The flirting part was easy. The lingering touches were simple. People were drunk. They wouldn't notice Brittany brushing her hand across my thigh, or think twice about her lips touching my neck when she had to lean in to whisper something. And, even better, if they did notice…we could just claim to be drunk ourselves.

I hated playing that card. The "drunken bi-curious" card, but it sure as hell made things a little less stressful.

So then why am I nervous? Why is my pulse snapping inside my neck? Why are butterflies crawling inside my skin?

Because those touches might go too far…I'm not exactly reserved when it comes to my drunken-desires. And Brittany definitely isn't shy about undressing after a few beers.

I leaned into Brittany, pushed my lips into her ear lobe, and slid my cheek against the back of her jaw line. "Let's grab a beer."

Her hand twisted out of my pinkie and she wrapped her fist around the ends of my fingers. She clenched and squished my fingers together and started to pull me through the crowd.

We passed a few Cheerios, and I smiled a haphazard hello towards them. It was different now that I was head cheerleader. I had to actually acknowledge the girls below me, well…because everyone was below me. If I ignored most of the girls, like I did when Quinn was head cheerleader, I'd have a pretty pissed off and lost squad of girls on my hands. And I'm pretty sure Sue wouldn't approve.

I shook the thought of Sue from my mind. Tonight was about alcohol, and about forgetting.

The kitchen was a little quieter. Stifled might be the appropriate word. I looked over towards the counter where Karofsky had poured me shots that night a few months ago, I looked over to the hallway where the bathroom was, and finally I looked over at Brittany.

She was waiting for me to decide where to go.

A letterman's jacket stepped in front of us. I looked into the face it belonged to. Mark. "Hey Brittany." He looked over to me. "Santana."

Shit.

He continued. "I haven't seen you girls out in awhile."

"Yeah, well we've been busy with cheer. And with winning. Something you and the football team aren't familiar with."

"Yeah…" I could see him searching for a response.

I didn't have time to dance around Mark tonight. I wasn't going to deal with his awkward flirting with Brittany, and his awkwardness around me (ever since I did whatever I did with him in the back of his truck).

"Hey girls." Matt stepped up. "Looks like you guys have the same plan as me." He held up and toasted his beer. "Except you're not drinking?" He questioned when he must have noticed we weren't carrying any alcohol.

"Just got here." I responded, noticeably nicer.

Mark looked offended.

"Well grab whatever you want out of the fridge." He turned and pointed to the refrigerator. "And there's vodka over on the counter that I brought. You can have as much as you'd like."

"When me and Santana took vodka from her house we just refilled it with water." Brittany said between everyone. Her hand squeezed tighter around my fingers, reminding me that she was still holding on. "But then her mom never bought it again, because she said it tasted gross."

Matt didn't skip a beat. He'd grown accustomed to her remarks. "Yeah. I've done that before." He folded his arms and smiled. "Vodka is already gross though."

"Totally." Brittany agreed.

"Cool. Well, see you guys around. Or I'll just see you in rehearsal tomorrow." Matt turned and headed back out into the jammed living room.

The instant he was gone I bumped and nudged Brittany towards the counter before Mark said something. Luckily he didn't follow us over. I lifted both hands up to the counter, and her fist that was clenched around my fingers slipped out. She placed her palms flat against the counter and watched me unscrew the vodka bottle.

"Did you want this Britt?" I moved the uncapped bottle underneath my nose and sniffed defensively. The alcohol was cool at first, but quickly stung like gasoline. Distilled vapors flooded my nose and shoved through my tear ducts. "Holy shit!" I coughed and snapped the bottle away from my nose. "That smells fucking delicious." I held my breath at the roof of my mouth, knowing that was the best way to keep the gag-worthy smell from penetrating my throat. "Gross." I set the bottle down.

Brittany wired an overdramatic frown across her face. The corner of her lips seeped downward and her eyes went wide, as if she were empathizing with me. "Good thing we're not Russian." She pulled the corner of her mouth up and pinched her lips tightly together. "Drink it fast." She shrugged.

I drifted the bottle back towards my lips, but the instant the smell caught my throat I had to stifle another gag. Vodka wasn't my thing. Tequila was. I needed Tequila. "I can't Britt." I set the plastic Monarch bottle on the counter. "You can if you want, but I'm gonna find us something a little more expensive."

Brittany shifted her eyes back and forth between me and the bottle. It was obvious that she was trying to decide if it was worth it. The vodka was sitting right in front of her…

"I can just pour it in a shot glass or something." Brittany pulled open a cupboard to reveal a row of blue plastic cups. No shot glasses. I looked up at the top shelf, the shelf that was out of our reach, and the shelf that Karofsky had to reach for last time.

Brittany grabbed one of the blue cups, turned the vodka bottle over, and started pouring. It glugged once, twice, three times out of the bottle until the cup was about halfway full. Just to be safe I held my breath. She set the vodka on the counter and smiled with accomplishment. "There. Now I have a giant shot."

I knew a half horrified, half repulsed expression was covering my face, because Brittany once again frowned. "It's not that bad. I've drank worse. Drinked? Drunken?" Her face went slack in defeat.

I didn't even want to ask what. The only thing I could think of was when she told me she used to sit on the curb in her front yard, jab ants with her pointer finger, and then eat them. She defended herself by saying that the Lion King, more specifically Timon and Pumba, gave her the wrong impression regarding the edibility of bugs.

"Yeah," I had to speak up because someone had turned up the music. Rap was echoing and vibrating through the walls. "I bet you have." I teased her.

She rolled her eyes and started to chug the cup of vodka. Her sudden decision took me by surprise and she finished the entire cup before I had the chance to gasp properly. Her face contorted, scrunched, and her eyes squinted. She shook her head quickly, probably trying to distract herself from the taste, and her curled ponytail whipped her in the cheek. "Yucko." She groaned.

"Hey guys!" Someone spoke to us and stepped next to me. I turned and saw a girl wearing a black blouse, a tight black skirt, long laced stockings, and grey and black flats. It was Tina. "Figured you two would show up." She smiled and tapped Brittany on the shoulder with her free hand to say hello. Her other hand held a red cup. "Puck told us we could all stop by. I wasn't going to, but I figured this might be my last chance to hang out with you all."

Brittany smiled a little too big, and a little too cheesy. A subtle sign that the vodka was beginning to take its affect. "Where's your boyfriend? How'd he get inside?" Brittany peeked over my shoulder and Tina's and looked out into the living room.

"He didn't come." Tina answered.

"So you came with Mercedes?" I asked. Maybe I could redeem myself in front of them and prove that I wasn't some mute lunatic when I was drunk…and they wouldn't have to run out to my car and get me dry clothes at every party.

"She's on her way I think." Tina responded.

"So...you just showed up by yourself?" I was a little bemused by her bravery. Tina was pretty shy and reserved. Definitely not the girl who shows up to parties alone.

"Yeah." She didn't seem to understand what I was getting at. "Puck said you guys would be here."

"Oh." My face made an "o". She came because we were here. Weird. I wasn't used to that. I'm used to being glued at the hip to Brittany, meeting, and hooking up with guys. Not going out with my girlfriends.

"You can drink that." Brittany pointed to the vodka on the counter. "It's Matts."

Tina raised her red cup. "That's okay. I already got something." She looked down at my empty hands. "Want to try it?" She held the cup out to me. It was filled with a teal liquid and smelled distinctly familiar, tropical.

I pulled my eyes over to Brittany, who was fervently nodding her head yes and smiling like a little kid.

I was hesitant, but took the cup anyway. Nobody (well…excluding guys who were trying to get me drunk enough to have sex…and Brittany) has ever shared a drink with me. "What is it?" I smelled it again.

"Tequila and pineapple juice." Tina answered as I took a soft sip.

"Hm." It was good. "Where'd you get this?" I handed the cup back to her.

Brittany leaned in and looked into the cup. "Blue spider stuff." She leaned back before Tina offered her a drink.

"Waddup." Mercedes walked into the kitchen and called toward us. Suddenly I felt more popular than I had ever felt. People (again people not trying to fuck me) were actually acknowledging me at a party. Usually the girls just cower, hide, or make minimal eye contact. "Where's the alcohol." Mercedes stopped in front of us all.

Brittany picked up the bottle of Vodka and held it out to Mercedes. Mercedes reacted exactly like I did. She backed away repulsed. Brittany, acting offended, pulled the bottle to her chest and hugged it.

Tina turned to me, answering my question. "Puckerman has tequila in the living room. He just made me a drink. And there's a whole bunch of other stuff out there." She looked at Mercedes too.

"I'll be right back Britt." I said to her. I would have invited her but she looked content with her Vodka, and it probably isn't a good idea to load her up on too much alcohol on a school night.

I turned to Mercedes, using gestures to ask if she wanted to tag along. I felt weird saying the actual words. And it's not because I thought she was a loser, and was embarrassed to be seen with her, far from it. She recently was one of the most popular girls in school, before she quit Cheerios. So walking around at a party with her wouldn't harm my reputation. It just felt odd to hang out with someone other than Britt.

We walked shoulder to shoulder out of the kitchen. "Have you seen anyone else?" Mercedes yelled over the music.

"Matt." I responded. I knew she had meant, have you seen any other glee clubbers.

She only nodded, because the music was way too loud to talk anymore. Puckerman was against a far wall. Mercedes and I squeezed through the crowd and eventually came face to face with him. He was squinting at and trying to read the label of his Tarantula Tequila.

He peeked around the bottle and grinned. "Want some?" He yelled over the music, but I had to read his lips just to make sure. He made eye contact with me. His intentions blatantly written across his face. Get Santana drunk and then fuck her. He didn't wait for us to answer before he poured three shots.

"Sure." Mercedes said and took one of the shots.

I grabbed one, tilted my head back, and swallowed the tequila. It was extraordinarily better than that vodka could ever be and easily slid down my throat. He grabbed the glasses from us and started to refill them, ignoring Mercedes shaking her head and saying, no thank you.

He held out the refilled shots. The corner of my eyes peeked over to Mercedes. She was still trying to smother her gags. I grabbed both shots and downed them without skipping a beat. I set the glasses down and had to take a second to keep myself from regurgitating. I like tequila, but still…three shots in less than a minute is more than I'm used to.

Puckerman held his hand up and I high fived him, while using the back of my other hand to cover my lips. He tilted the bottle towards me and pointed at my shot glass.

This time I shook my head no. My stomach was turning a little and my mouth was watering.

I turned to look at Mercedes. Her eyes were wide and a little shocked. When I turned back to the table Puckerman was finishing up two mixed drinks that looked identical to the one Tina had let me sip. I picked up both of the drinks, handed one to Mercedes, and then started walking toward the kitchen. But Mercedes grabbed my shoulder and stopped me.

Her finger pointed to a couch across the room. Brittany was sitting on her knees on the couch cushion, animatedly waving her hands at Tina, probably telling a story. Tina threw her head back and laughed.

So we headed towards them. The music pounded my skull as I walked in front of the speaker, and thankfully died down when I reached the couch in the corner. Brittany waved at me and smiled. She scooted her knees back and left enough room for me to sit next to her, even though there was a spot on the other side of Tina.

I plopped on the couch, careful not to spill my drink. Brittany's knees dug into my left thigh, and Tina's arm pressed against my arm. Mercedes took the open spot on the other side of Tina and started to tell a story that I couldn't quite hear over the music.

Brittany's hand pressed on my knee and she leaned down into my ear. Her chest pushed into my shoulder. "What'd you get?" She leaned back, but kept her hand where it was.

I turned my face towards her, not able to reach up any further, but she leaned her ear down to my lips. "Tequila. You won't like it. But you can try it."

She leaned back and shook her head.

I laughed and took a sip of my drink. It was strong. Puckerman wasn't stingy.

I took one more sip, set my cup by my feet, and nodded for her to come back down to my lips. She did and I spoke into her ear again. This time I made it a point to brush my lips against the slits and folds on her ear. "Where's your bottle?"

She turned her head to speak into the side of my face. "I drank it all."

I pulled back in panic. But she was smiling and pointing to the bottle near my feet. She leaned back in. "Just kidding." Her hand slipped up so it was cupping the inside of my thigh.

Shit.

I turned to Mercedes before I pounced on Brittany and shoved my tongue down her throat. Or before I spread my legs and dared her to reach further up.

"Is anybody else showing up?" I had to yell, because I wasn't speaking as closely to her as I was to Brittany.

"Mike is. He just texted me asking if I was here." She held her phone up. Brittany continued to tickle my thigh, unbeknownst to anyone else. "Oh!" She looked past us. "There he is." Mercedes waved for him to join us.

Mike started walking towards the couch.

"Have a seat Mr. Chang." Mercedes said when he was close enough.

But there were no seats left. No room, unless he sat on the floor. "Where?" He asked and scanned the crowded couch once again.

Brittany's hand was driving me insane. I leapt up from the couch, startling everyone. "Take my seat. Our seat. We need to pee."

I looked down at Brittany, a devilish yet innocent smile plagued her face. She stood up too and left a barren spot for Mike. "Keep it warm." I think I heard her say.

Her hand grabbed my fingers again and we started squeezing through the crowd. I wasn't sure where she was taking me, but that didn't really matter. As long as it was private, I was okay with anything she decided.

I grazed the hallway wall with my shoulder, and just barely avoided a collision with one of the football players. But when Brittany stopped short, I couldn't help but smack into her back.

"Sorry Santana." She apologized for her abruptness. It was quieter in the hall, even quieter than the kitchen. "But look." She pointed at the bathroom. "It's occupied."

I looked up and down the hall to make sure nobody was staring, or watching us. When I was satisfied that nobody was keeping tabs on us, I nodded towards Puckerman's bedroom and started to pull her towards the open door. We darted into the room and I quickly and quietly clicked the door shut.

His lamp was on. Enough light for us, so I left the overhead light off.

"This seems dangerous." Her breath was wet. Her lips moved closer to me.

"Puckerman's got a good five beers or so before he stumbles back here." I bit my lip to keep myself from adding, looking for me.

"Okay." Her giggle was soft and sultry, before it broke off and her mouth pressed into mine.

Her lips were like liquid. I knew alcohol dehydrated people, but her lips were wet, provocative, tender. As if she'd been waiting for me. I curved my mouth around her bottom lip and it slipped over the pink and onto the small dimple just below her bottom lip. I tried again and held her lip in between my teeth.

"Owe." She giggled and tightly cuffed my wrists.

I let go and kissed her smile. This time I didn't take her mouth into mine, I just pushed my lips onto hers until her grin melted and her concentration refocused.

She opened her mouth first, and I echoed. The kiss was deliberate and sensual. Heavier than I can ever remember us kissing. And it was hotter than I remember. My cheeks were burning. It felt like the sun was beating down on my face and my skin was going to dissolve. I had to take a deep breath and break the kiss.

She pulled her face back only enough to examine my unexpected gasp. She looked curious and concerned, like she had done something wrong. I could only smile. Hell no she didn't do something wrong.

Brittany continued, but didn't continue with my lips. She hushed a kiss on the corner of my mouth and pressed into my cheek. Her hand un-cuffed one of my wrists and cupped the opposite side of my face.

She was gentle. Her kisses trickled my cheek. The tip of her tongue would dip out and silently catch my skin before she kissed it. Each kiss her mouth would open a little wider and her lips would hold their kiss for a little longer. She left scolding lip prints against my skin when she pulled away and found a new spot to tease.

Her thumb ran and circled my cheekbone and her fingertips pressed into my jaw line below my ear.

The back of my knees hit the mattress. We must have moved backwards. I wanted to sit down, lie down, but I didn't want her to stop kissing my skin.

Her hand slipped down my cheek and cupped my neck. Her thumb started to trace along my jaw line. And with her hands downward progression, she started to trail her lips down my cheek until she reached the crook of my neck.

My neck was sensitive. I squirmed and pushed my body closer to hers. She held her lips in one spot and started to suck.

"Hm." I sighed and closed my eyes.

Her lips released my skin and her teeth nipped at the swollen spot on my neck. I squirmed again and groaned.

She continued to toy with my neck and I nuzzled my face closer to her. She smelled like fruity hairspray. Coconut. And her skin smelled sweet, intoxicating.

Her lips worked insistently into my neck, until my knees were too shaky to hold my weight and my head was too light to keep standing. As slowly as I could manage I sat on the edge of the bed, leading her with me. Her mouth drifted away from my skin, but she made sure to keep her lips close to my neck as she bent over me.

Without hesitating, she straddled my lap, kept her face in the crook of my neck, and pushed me back until I was flat on the bed. Puckerman's bed. Fuck.

"What if he walks in Britt?" I murmured in between her flicking tongue against my craned and exposed neck.

She stopped, kept bent over me, but looked back at the door. It was shut. Not locked, but shut. "We can get under the covers?" She turned back to me. Her eyes darted back and forth between my eyes and my lips. "Nobody will see us in there. It'll be like a fort."

Only Brittany could start talking about forts and still sound sexy. But that probably has to do with the fact that she's straddling me right now, and my neck is throbbing from both the assertion and absence of her sucking.

But I listened to her. I scrambled back, shoved my back against the headboard and scooted my legs underneath the comforter. Brittany took a less swift approach. She flung the comforter open, crawled towards me, and let it fall over us.

Her hands grabbed my waist and yanked me further down so the only thing I could see was the dark green blackness of the inside of Puckerman's comforter. I tried not to think of how the smell reminded me of doing it with him, and it was actually turning out pretty well thanks to Britt.

I was flat on my back. Brittany shuffled around and I heard something unzip. "It's too hot under here." She spoke inside the muffled and humid comforter. It was conforming to our bodies and leaving absolutely no room to breathe. But that wasn't really bothering me right now. I wanted to know what she had unzipped. Her top, or her bottom?

The fabric of her bra slipped across my shin and answered my question. My nerve endings screamed when her stomach touched the same spot on my leg her bra had just touched. And when her tongue touched the dimple inside of my knee I had to clench to keep from making a noise.

Her breathing was heavy, magnified underneath the comforter. She pressed her tongue flat against my leg and ran it up as she inched her body upward and glided her chest over my thighs. Instinctually my legs spread for her.

"Take your spankies off Santana." She told me from in between my legs. Those words from her mouth caused my stomach to wriggle and my center to clench again.

I slid my knees up, tucked them to my chest and pulled my spankies off as quickly as I could. But Brittany was too impatient; she fumbled her hands around in the heated darkness and helped me tug them off.

I'm not sure where they went after that.

I spread my legs again. Knees bent. Almost like that butterfly stretch we do in cheer for warm ups, except I was lying on my back.

Her fingers touched me first. Two of them. The two middle fingers. They were cold in comparison the intensifying heat underneath the blanket. She slid them over my folds. I knew I was wet. And now that she was actually touching my wetness, I could feel myself swell and clench even more.

She worked her fingers on me. Not quickly, but firmly. Like a soft bruise. It made my body move and grind in motion with her stroke. I rolled my hips with her rub. And each second I would twinge even more than the last from pleasure.

But she stopped the rubbing motion, put her wet fingers onto my thigh, and I felt the bed shuffle as she scooted closer. A soft breath chilled my wetness. "Fuck." I couldn't hold it in and it came out as more of a moan than anything.

Her tongue flicked over the outside of my folds, never actually searching or entering. But her finger returned. Just one. She tickled until she found my entrance and pushed it in.

My back arched and I felt myself tighten around her finger. It was probably the alcohol helping this along, but I was already reaching my peak. I felt like I was boiling, getting hotter and hotter.

Something warm and moist slipped in with her finger. Her tongue. In response my legs closed a little and pressed against her cheeks.

She shoved her tongue in further, pulled it out, and found my clit with her lips.

She sucked. She sucked like she had sucked my neck. Soft at first, grazed with her teeth, flicked her tongue out and returned with her lips. And then she sucked harder.

That hot feeling started from the spot her lips were at, shook my legs, made my body go rigid, and my breath falter. A throb echoed inside my body, until I fell limp. It's when I stopped trembling that I noticed I'd let out a ragged groan. My coarse breath returned and Brittany pulled her lips away.

I wanted to pull the blanket off of my face, to allow myself to breathe the cool air, but no way in hell was I going to risk someone walking in and seeing me like this. I could feel the flush in my face, my chest was heaving, and my legs were still tingly. And looking like this, I don't know how well I could explain Brittany being in the place she was.

Her hand grabbed my ankle and she pulled my foot through the leg-hole of my spankies. She did the same with my other foot, careful not to catch my sneakers on the red elastic.

Thud!

A loud crack smacked the walls. I jolted up, flipped the comforter off of my head, and felt my knee connect with something hard.

Before the person who slammed the door open had a chance to even look in our direction, I was already off the bed, and standing up with my spankies completely adjusted.

I turned back to Brittany. My reaction was all one fluid motion, but now that it had stopped I could counter-react.

The comforter was hanging halfway off the bed, and Brittany was kneeling in the middle of the mattress, wearing just her bra and her cheer skirt, with her hand over her nose.

"Hey what happened?" A familiar voice spoke from behind me. It was Mercedes.

I crawled back on the bed and sat on my knees next to Brittany. "I'm so sorry." My stomach knotted. "Are you okay Britt. Let me see." I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hands away from her face.

Her nose was red. Not bleeding, but a healthy puffy pink. And her eyes were watering. I could tell she was fighting back the urge to let them freely pour.

"Is it gushing?" Brittany tried to reach her hand back up and touch her nose, but I gently pushed it back down.

"No. No blood." I informed her.

"Whoa," another voice spoke. This time it was a male voice. "Dude. What happened to you?" Puckerman walked over and stood behind me on the bed. I turned around and saw both him and Mercedes gawking at Brittany.

"Nothing. It's fine." I tried to shove away their concerns. "I got it."

"Where's your top Brittany?" Mercedes finally questioned the obvious.

"No it's totally cool." Puck answered for me. "Britt always loses her clothes. That's nothing abnormal. But she usually doesn't get racked in the nose." He shuffled around, probably trying to get a better view.

I was already turned back to Brittany. I twisted her chin to get different angles of her nose.

"Want me to grab some ice?" Puckerman offered. "You guys just wait right here." He started to turn and leave.

"No." I stopped him. "No." I didn't want to be in his room any longer. Not after what me and Britt did in his bed. I felt like we could still get caught. "We'll go to the bathroom. Have Mercedes bring in the ice. You're room smells like the place where whales swim off to go die."

Brittany snickered, but grimaced in pain and stopped.

I stood up, grabbed her hand, and guided her off the bed. My hand rested on the middle of her back and I directed her past Mercedes, past Puckerman, and out of his bedroom. The bathroom was just a few feet away and thankfully it was empty.

First, I let Brittany walk in. And then I reached my hand in, flicked the light on, and stepped in myself. I patted the counter and signaled for her to hop up on it. She did. Easily. Athletically. She always made things like that look like a piece of cake.

I was about to shut the door, when I remembered Mercedes was coming with ice. "I'm so sorry Britt. I didn't mean to hit you." Her sports bra caught my attention, and then her toned stomach caught my attention. I still wasn't entirely over my recent climax. I wanted to touch her, make her feel what I did…

"It's okay." Brittany responded and pulled my focus back up to her nose. "I've hit you loads of times in cheer." She responded. "On accident." She added.

And I sighed when I felt the sincerity.

"Yeah I know, but…" I was going to say this is different, but stopped myself. It wasn't really different was it? I don't know. I guess it was an accident.

"It's okay I promise." She reached toward my face and brushed her thumb against my cheek. I didn't know I was crying until I saw a tear fall down and pool in the webbing between her thumb and her pointer finger.

Fuck. Shit. Stop crying idiot. I'm supposed to take care of her.

"Got it." Mercedes walked in and I snatched the ice from her. The cubes were in a zip lock baggie, and the baggie was scrunched up in a maroon kitchen towel.

I walked over to Britt and carefully rested the ice against her nose. I didn't let go until her hands were holding it in the exact spot it needed to be.

I'd forgotten Mercedes was in the bathroom until she spoke again. "Want a ride home? I can pick you up before school to get your car."

"Sure." I agreed.

The party wasn't really over, but I was ready to go. And I could tell Brittany was ready to go. Not because her eyes were watering from a nose injury, but because her eyes looked tired. She looked tired. Worn out. We'd had a long day. A long, depressing, overwhelming day. I grabbed her cheer top and we left the party.

The car ride home was long. I'd been sitting for only five minutes and it felt like five years. Brittany was in the front. I was in the back. I figured it was a little rude for both me and Britt to sit in the back, and I figured Brittany should have the front. Plus, she called shotgun.

I was silent during the ride. I just didn't have anything to say that didn't involve and apology for kneeing Brittany in the nose. And I was worried that if I brought it up again, Mercedes might ask how Brittany hurt her nose.

But they talked. Mercedes and Brittany. Usually on car rides home, Brittany was too tired to talk, but I think she was just making it a point to show me that she was fine.

They were talking about her cat, I think. "Yeah. Lord Tubbington is quite the little nipper. Tongue like sandpaper. Teeth like machetes."

"Do you ever think about getting an animal that's a little less," Mercedes paused to find the right word. "Reliant on people."

"I used to have a turtle. Gavin." Brittany started.

But Mercedes interrupted her. "Wait. So you named your cat Lord Tubbington and your turtle Gavin?"

"Totally. I was going to name him Muff, but Santana told me that wasn't a good name." Brittany shrugged. "But Gavin got lost too easily. So I'd just put him on the fence post to keep him from crawling away. My parents told me that was bad and took him back to the pet store."

Mercedes just nodded in response. I pressed my head against the window and closed my eyes. It was cold and my face still felt like it was on fire. The car was silent for a few minutes, excluding the humming from the tires, and the whishing of passing cars.

"You guys pumped for regionals?" I opened my eyes to see Mercedes looking at me through the rear view mirror.

"Hm." I felt obligated to respond, but didn't feel obligated to lie. My hm held no enthusiasm and held no truth.

"I'm looking forward to the bus ride. They always remind me of Ms. Frizzle's crazy shenanigans." Brittany continued.

The car slowed and pulled up a small hill. I opened my eyes and saw we were at my house. The porch light was off, no lights were on, and I'm guessing it'll be a safe sneaking in. "See you tomorrow." I called towards Mercedes as I opened, hopped out, and shut the door.

Brittany waved goodbye and we walked up to my porch.

Neither of us talked while we got ready for bed. Not because it was awkward, but because we were tired. She crawled in first and left the blanket open for me. I crawled in. I didn't even expend the extra effort it would have taken to shut off my lamps.

And before I had the chance to scoot any closer, she nuzzled into my neck. Her hands clenched onto my tank top and her lips stopped on my collarbone. "We're gonna need spoons." Brittany spoke into my skin. Her speech was groggy.

I assumed she was sleep talking, but I answered anyway. "Spoons? For what?" Now I closed my eyes.

"You're neck. There's hickeys." She spoke again, even slower, softer, and more incoherent.

But I was too tired to freak out. Spoons will have to wait until tomorrow. And I'll just load up on the cover-up. I wonder if Mercedes saw? Shit…If Puckerman saw?

Again I was too tired to freak out. I was at my freaking out limit. My body softened and I fell asleep before I answered her.

xxXXXXXxXXXXxxxX

After Regionals…

Even though I sang my heart out, crossed my fingers that we would win, Quinn had her baby, held Brittany's hand when the winners were being announced, sang a song to Mr. Shue after we lost and cried while doing so…I was still sitting here with my heart broken. I'd never done so many momentous things in such a short amount of time, and it was all for nothing. I'd even gone as far as admitting to Mr. Shue and everyone else in Glee that I hated them when we started. Now that wasn't true. And I don't want to know what next year is going to mean without them.

I kept my pinky to myself. If this is the last rehearsal then I'm going to need to get used to it. I sat in the top corner with Britt. Everyone had their heads down, waiting for Mr. Shue to give us the speech. The speech about how we are all so talented, blah blah blah.

"We've got another year." He broke the silence.

My stomach flipped and my eyes looked up to see if I was just imagining what he said, or if a genuine look on his face accompanied the good news.

I turned to Brittany. Her mouth was dropped open. My hand shot for hers. Everyone shot up and started jumping. And when Brittany and I jumped up I made sure to link pinkies with her. I could feel a huge dorky smile smear across my face. I was jumping like a dorky jumping bean, hugging Brittany, and making little cheering noises.

"Okay," Rachel spoke up in front of everyone. "You guys, I think this is the perfect opportunity for us to start rehearsing for next year's sectionals immediately-,"

Mr. Shue interrupted her and started to lead her back to her seat. "You guys. You've all worked really hard this year. You deserve a break. Take the summer off. Have some fun." He ordered us. "Oh, but before you go I have something for you." He walked over and opened the ukulele case on the piano. "You all sang for me the other day so today I'd like to return the favor. Puck," he waved for him to join him. "If you're ready."

They started playing Somewhere over the Rainbow.

Now I was sitting down, smile still beaming on my face, and held my pinkie up for Brittany. I laughed when she mouthed something cute to me, and pulled her hand down to my lap.

xxxxxxXXX

A/N: Keep an eye out for S2 MBF ;) and leave me a last review for this!