Author Note: None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Brittany's brow furrowed as she looked at the text Santana had sent her. She was still trying to figure out an appropriate response, despite several minutes having passed. She pushed the math book away from her and slid forward in her chair, far enough so that she could rest her chin on her desk top, arms reaching out in front of her as she dialed Santana's number. Homework could wait.
Santana sat cross-legged on her bed, a hand held up and fingers curled toward her as she meticulously applied a fresh coat of nail polish to her index finger. Her phone, lying next to her on the comforter, began to vibrate.
Brittany counted one ring before Santana picked up.
"Yeah, B?" the other girl asked casually, tilting her head and cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear, freeing her hands as she blew lightly on her nails. "What's up?"
Brittany paused, wondering if she should just hang up now and pretend she hadn't called.
"You just texted me."
"I know, B," Santana said patiently.
"Did you mean to send that to Puck?"
"No. That was meant for you."
Brittany hung up abruptly.
When the polish had had enough time to dry, Santana set the vial on her nightstand and sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and staring at her perfectly manicured toes dejectedly. Maybe what she had been feeling earlier hadn't been confidence, but a misplaced cockiness.
Her phone pinged softly, signaling the arrival of a text message, and Santana picked it up quickly, expecting the worse. An end to their friendship, maybe, or a notification that B had forwarded her text to half of McKinley High. Flipping her phone open and scanning the text quickly, Santana let out a relieved sigh, flopping backward onto the bed.
G-string and bra. You?, she answered with a ridiculously giddy smile.