A/N: Hey everyone! I decided to give it a shot at writing a Brittana fic. I am a brand new watcher of the show so I'll try to match up my story with the show as closely as possible. Of course, small things may differ.
Essentially this is how I see Glee from the perspective of Brittana. I hope you all Enjoy. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. :)
Chapter 1: Just an Accident
"You think this is hard, try being water-boarded, that's hard!" Sue screeched at us through her signature megaphone. "That's it for today!" Our cheerleading couch yelled again in an uncomfortably high octave. Every muscle in my legs held firm from fear of quivering. I knew what happened when Sue spotted a weakness. So no matter how much my body burned I would not show it. "Maybe after you all think about how easy it would be to replace you, you'll come tomorrow a little more prepared." Frustrated and defeated, Sue tossed the megaphone onto her duffel bag.
That was our signal we could leave. I helped Brittany down from the pyramid and my muscles immediately softened. "Who does she think she is?" I huffed and crossed my arms as we marched toward the locker room. "I just pulled off a flawless back hand spring."
"Santana!" An all too familiar amplified voice drilled through my ears. "Here. Now." Sue called through the megaphone. I'd jumped so high, I was surprised I didn't let out an equally embellished scream. After my heart was able to settle back down, it quickly sunk to the pit of my stomach. She had to have heard what I said.
"Come on Britt." I eyed my best friend and gestured toward Sue.
"Okay." Brittany smiled, clearly aloof to my near imminent death. Her perky blonde pony-tail bounced as we both inched closer the only woman who I can honestly admit being terrified of.
Brittany and I stopped in front of Sue. Her brow cursed with the megaphone still place squarely in front of her mouth. "You!" She pointed the megaphone straight into Brittany's face. "I need to talk to you." Both Brittany and I cringed from the augmented shrill of her voice.
"Then why'd you call me over?" I snapped trying to maintain any shred of sassiness I had left after Sue Sylvester's wrath had scared it away.
"Because," Sue raised her voice, paused, and thankfully pulled the megaphone down from her mouth. "Because…" much better, "I didn't know her name. And I wasn't sure how well she would respond to Simpusher."
Both of us stood in awkward silence, not really sure how to respond.
"Simpson-Usher. Jessica Simpson the feebleminded simpleton. And Usher who has more moves than Patrick Swayze and the ostentatious nature of one Antoine Dodson after only a few sips of Gin. I would know, I slipped into the night club in L.A. and emptied a tiny baby bottle of Fleishchmann into Mr. Raymond's Shirley Temple." Sue eyes pierced straight through us, completely in awe by our inability to immediately translate Simpusher.
"Oh," Brittany still smiling stuck her right hand out toward Sue. "My name is Brittany S. Pierce. Pleasure to meet you."
Sue retracted in disgust. Her free hand shot out and slapped Brittany's. "If I wanted you to have a real name I would have asked. Now, down to business. Simpusher…you listen to Jenny from the block." Sue pointed at me. "Apart from Fabray, you are my top dogs. I'm counting on you to hound the rest of the cheerleaders when I'm not around. That includes forbidding them to eat if they appear a little plumper than usual. I want a winning year this year, and I will stop at nothing to get it. Leave now."
Brittany and I exchanged a momentary glance and shot off in the opposite direction. I waited till we were a safe distance away before I spoke. "Don't listen to her Britt, she treats everyone like that. At least she notices how good you are."
I thoroughly examined Brittany's face looking for any hint of hurt or resentment, but Sue seemed to have left her unscathed. Miraculously.
"It's just like you said," Brittany looked at me as we continued to walk to the locker room, "Stupid is as stupid does."
"Uh, I didn't say that." I raised an eyebrow.
"No?" She questioned.
"That's from Forest Gump. I just told you to treat people like shit and they'll respect you."
Brittany wasn't dumb, she wasn't slow, she was just a little different, which is why I loved her. The two of us had been best friends since she'd moved here in fourth grade. She was the only person who was brave enough to hang out with me after I'd spontaneously cut off Rachel Berry's pigtail in art class.
"Hey," the thin blonde sat next to me in the principal's office. "Why are you in here?"
"No reason." I ignored her and wiped the tears of frustration from my eyes.
"Why are you crying?" She asked without hesitation.
"I'm not." I snapped back and crossed my arms in defense.
"I bet it has something to do with that girl who just got picked up. She kept crying and holding a braided pigtail. I told her that there were more important things to cry over and her hair will grow back. I also told her to throw away her hair, cause it was kinda creepy that's she's carrying it around. My mom made me throw away my dead hamster."
I laughed and wiped away a final tear.
To say the least, it infuriated me when people called her out, or made her feel stupid. She's the most honest and sincere person I know. And over the years I'd grown protective over her, everyone knew that. Anyone who messed with Brittany would have to deal with me. Unless, of course, it was Sue Sylvester.
Our morning Cheerios practice left us with plenty of time to hang out before class. The team dropped duffle bags off in the locker room, freshened up, and trickled out and into the hallways of William McKinley High School. I guided Brittany through the teeming halls and made it a point to linger in front of Noah Puckerman's locker.
"Why are we here?" Brittany looked around a little confused, because we usually spent this time digging inside our own lockers and gossiping.
"Waiting for Puck." I said simply. Students continued to braze by us, but made it a point to never actually bump us.
"What do you mean why? He's the hottest guy in the school. I'm a top cheerleader. If Quinn is already dating the quarterback, I need something just as high on the food chain." I pulled out my cell phone to check the time. 10 minutes till class.
"I just mean, he's kind of a jerk. He kept laughing at me when I told him there was no way I could give him my head without giving him my whole body."
It took me a couple of seconds to understand the difference between what she said, and what Puckerman meant. The sudden realization caused my stomach to knot and cramp. The reaction by my body took me by surprise. It felt like I'd eaten something horrible and it was slowly and permanently resting inside my chest.
That was the first time Brittany's told me someone used a sexual reference to provoke and tease her. "You didn't give him anything right?" My stomach tightened even further. I was protective of her, of course, but the thought of someone taking advantage of her made me sick. Especially Noah Puckerman. It made me want to grab her by the hand and take her far, far, away from everyone.
"No…" She said slowly. "It's impossible. Do you give your head?" Brittany's laugh was childlike. It made me think of the way a lamb would laugh if someone told it that people were going to steal its fuzzy fur.
"Britt," I shushed her. "That's not what he means. You didn't hear him right."
"He said, hey Brittany," she mocked him using a deeper voice, "can you give me head?"
I closed my eyes and stared into the blackness. It was the only thing I could do to keep from freaking out. Half of me was frustrated with her. I just didn't understand why she was so naïve. For goodness sake she still believed in Santa Claus…I think. The other half of me wanted to seek and destroy Puckerman.
I opened my eyes and spotted Rachel Berry approaching. Her eyes instinctually averted mine and she swerved to the other side of the hall. But it was too late.
"Man-hands," I called out toward her. "I told you to come to school with a bag over your head so I wouldn't have to go out of my way to search for one in the cafeteria during lunch."
She ignored my remark and sped past us.
I turned back to Brittany.
"That was kind of harsh Santana." Brittany lifted the corner of her mouth and pursed her lips to one side. "I mean it's not her fault she dresses weird. She just had nobody to show her stuff."
"Whatever. Let's bounce, I'm bored already."
"What about Puck?" Brittany pointed to his locker as if that symbolized his existence. "I thought you wanted to talk with him."
"Not so much," my stomach rolled again at the thought of what he had said to Brittany. Why was I over-reacting about this? He's said much worse to me…done much worse to me. It had to be jealousy…for him of course.
"It's not about what I said is it?" Brittany frowned. "I don't think he likes me San." Brittany shrugged. "And I don't like him. He was just teasing."
"No it's not about that," I said, but it felt like a lie. "He's a perv and he shouldn't be talking to you like that."
"Sometimes when I kiss boys I pretend I'm kissing someone else." Her change in subject was random, but fluid. She knew I was uncomfortable with the situation so she moved on. Another shred of evidence that she is, in fact, far from dumb. "I have to do that in order to successfully complete my list. A lot of the guys here aren't very…" Brittany stopped. She always stopped before she said something she knew would be judgmental.
"You pretend to kiss someone else?" I questioned her. Regardless of its simplicity, the statement seemed like a legitimate solution for the guys who never really had enough umph. Of course, I've never had a problem with my guys in the past.
"Well yeah. You know about my rep." Brittany shrugged. "I've kissed almost every guy in the scho-"
"Britt I'm gonna stop you there." I held up my hand. No matter how many times I tried to knock her off her tracks, she seemed determined to finish her list. "You need to stop with the kissing thing."
"You told me sex makes guys do whatever you want." She frowned.
"Sex?" My voice rose. "You're having sex with these guys too?" My stomach tangled again.
"No, but kissing is like sex. Just with your clothes on." Brittany seemed convinced with herself.
"Britt-any." I segregated her name on accident after decided that this conversation deserved full attention to her entire first name. "You know what sex is, because we've had this discussion many times. Kissing is not the same as sex."
"I know. I haven't had sex." Brittany glanced around at the passing students. "I was just saying I want to be the best. And to be the best I'm kissing everyone, even if that means kissing some toads and having to pretend I'm kissing you."
"What?" My voice came out hushed.
Her eyes snapped open and waxed over. "I-I uh…" She sunk into herself.
"There you two are." A blonde strode next to us wearing the same exact Cheerios uniform. An appreciative sigh escaped my lungs for the distraction. "What did Sue want with you after practice?" Quinn tried to sound intrigued, but I could smell the jealousy on her. Every time Sue talked to me, Quinn made it a point to be either glued to my shoulder or interrogate me immediately after.
"Nothing." I shrugged and pretended to hide something. Sue wanted nothing with us that would threaten Quinn's head cheerleading position, but it was fun to make her nervous.
"Uh huh," She eyed me suspiciously and then directed her attention towards Brittany. The head cheerleader was about to question Brittany before she, faltered, thought twice, and turned her attention back towards me. Quinn may be more popular than me and therefore more commanding, but she knows better than to cross me. And using Brittany to get an answer that I denied her would sure as hell piss me off. "I'm going out with Finn tonight and I wanted to make it a double date."
"Two dates in one night?" Brittany chimed in. "Two in one night is super intense. I did that once and accidentally fell asleep in the middle of the movie after dinner."
"No." Quinn shook her head.
A crazy-frog lodged itself in my throat. I knew Quinn wasn't talking about me and Brittany going on a date together with her and Finn (she was talking about Puckerman and me), but Britt's recent confession had my mind doing back flips.
A heavy arm interrupted our conversation and hung over my shoulder. "Hey ladies," Puck smirked and pulled me tightly against his torso. He used his other arm to reel in Brittany and tucked her into the other side of his body.
"Off beast." I lifted his arm off me and pushed his other arm off of Brittany. She wasn't available for him.
Puck ignored me and spoke directly to Quinn. "Hey party at my place tonight. I already told Finn so the double date is cancelled. Head straight there ladies."
"Fine." Quinn tightened her lips.
I watched Puck wink at Brittany and jog off to catch up with a group of football players.
"See you there tonight." Quinn spoke before she turned and walked away, leaving me and Brittany standing alone.
The halls had started to thin as students darted into classrooms, which meant class was about to start. The perfectly timed interruptions of Quinn and Puck had thankfully distracted me from Brittany's awkward comment, but the aftershock still remained lodged in my stomach. I wanted to forget what she said knowing sometimes she says things that don't make sense to anyone but her, but part of me wanted to interrogate her further. It bewildered me that she even thought of me like that. How could she? We have been friends for so long. Of course we've stayed the night together, helped each other change in the locker room, cuddled on the couch while watching old television reruns, but that's always been a friendship thing. Did Brittany think something else of it?
"I'm excited for the party." Brittany smiled.
I couldn't help but smile back. "Same."
School went by quickly, as it usually does. After our second Cheerios practice I headed straight to my house to get ready for the party, obviously taking Brittany with me.
While Brittany dug within my closet, I sat in front of my vanity and curled my hair. Wrap, clamp, twist, hold. In the mirror her reflection was bent over and unfolding piles of my jeans. I tried to focus on my hair instead of her, but I've curled my hair so many times that I don't even need a mirror to help. "Hey Britt?" I unintentionally called for her. I'd been so focused on her, watching her, studying her that I'd hadn't considered of the consequences of calling her over.
"Yeah?" She responded from the closet.
I kept quiet. It was my best option, because I didn't have a question I would ask that didn't involve her feelings towards me. I'd kept my mouth shut during all day at school, and all I had to do now was keep that up. I'd kept quiet during math class when she decided to draw smiley faces on my thigh with her gel pen, while I helped hold her up by her thigh in the pyramid, when she'd linked arms with me to walk back to the locker room, and during the car ride home.
I forced my eyes onto myself in the mirror as soon as I saw Brittany back out of the closet. She walked up behind me holding a white leather jacket that reminded me of something a biker would wear. She was already wearing a black lace spaghetti strap and a pair of shredded jean shorts. How did she always know what to wear? I'll even admit to asking her about outfits from time to time.
"What's up?" She spoke to me. Her hands began playing with me hair. It wasn't something uncharacteristic. We always played and braided each other's hair. Each individual finger twirled and toyed with my already curled strands.
"Never mind." I leaned forward and started putting on my eyeliner. Her fingers brushed to the end of the strand she was holding and dropped to her side when I was out of reach.
"We're going to be late." Brittany hugged the white jacket and sat back on my bed.
"There's no start time Britt." I continued to carefully apply the black makeup around my eyes, slightly relieved that she had stopped playing with my hair. After her comment today, I just wasn't sure about anything anymore.
"What are you wearing?" She asked from the bed.
"Not sure." I said.
She leaped from the bed and rushed for the closet. A little curious I spun around in my chair and watched her, until she backed out with a navy-blue skin tight dress and my black boots.
"Here," She held the dress out towards me. "You wore this once last year. It was super sexy; all the guys will go crazy."
"These heels will kill me." I acknowledged the boots in her hands.
"No way." She examined the heel. "You have to wear something that goes up higher on your leg since the dress is so short, that way it'll pull attention to your entire body. And this high of a heel will naturally make your legs flex."
"And here I thought the low cut dress was drawing attention elsewhere." I said sarcastically.
"Here let me help you get it on." Brittany reached towards me and began taking off my tank-top. Her fingers tucked under the hem and she slowly began dragging her fingers against my skin, and pulling the top with her. Again, something that wasn't unusual for us.
Without intending I shot up from my stool. "I got it." Immediately I regretted it. The look on her face stung.
Anyone other than myself would have assumed she forgot about her odd comment this morning, or wouldn't think she caught onto my awkwardness after the comment, but I know that's not true. She'd told me something on accident, that I knew she would never admit too, and now I was acting weird about it and hurting her in the process.
Brittany just smiled and stepped back. "I'll grab some juice." She left the white jacket on my bed and skipped out of my room.
Brittany was right. We did arrive late, which meant that everyone noticed when we walked in. I had Brittany to thank for that. I could tell everyone checking me out, and making it look like they weren't. All the attention was intoxicating, and slowly making me self-conscious. I had to find a safe place to relax. I made it a point to grab Brittany's hand and lead her through the crowd. After what had happened in my room I didn't want her thinking I felt uncomfortable around her.
As soon as we began squeezing through the bodies I smelt that oh-so-familiar drunken body smell. It was a mixture of cheap beer and Cheetos. Music was pulsating off of the walls and the lights were slightly dimmed. Right now the dim lights were a bit annoying, but I remember being drunk before and forcing Puck to make the room a bit sexier. His translation of sexier ended up being turn the lights down. At the time it worked in his favor…
Brittany tugged on my arm, which was a signal. She wanted me to stop and listen to something, meaning I would have to completely stop and wait till she leaned in. The music was too loud too hear anything less than a few inches away.
"Everyone's checking you out San." Brittany yelled into my ear.
I glanced around. Everyone was still checking me out…or checking us out. I suddenly became a little too aware of our situation. Two promiscuously dressed girls arrive at a party late, and holding hands. That's what they were looking at. They had to be.
Instead of yanking my hand away from Brittany, and hurting her feelings again, I dragged her to the kitchen. The living room was dense and constricting, but stepping into the kitchen was like surfacing inside a swimming pool after you'd been sitting on the bottom for three minutes. While people still littered the small kitchen, it was far better than being jammed together. I could breathe again.
Brittany released my hand and sprinted for the counter. Bottles and shot glasses stretched across the open space. I'd almost forgotten how much alcohol Puckerman had up his sleeve.
"It's like a candy store Santana." Brittany yelled back at me. Her voice was set at a higher decibel than need be. She hadn't quite adjusted to the change in scenery.
Her yelling had caused a group of football players leaning against the opposite counter to notice her. One being Karofsky. He had to be one of the dullest and oafish guys on the team. The one guy I refuse to even acknowledge.
Karofsky nudged his friends around him and pointed at Brittany. I followed his eye line and knew he was checking her out. He was watching her jean shorts slide up the back of her thighs as she reached for the higher cabinets trying to get a set of clean shot glasses. She was almost revealing the crease where her legs met her bottom.
Before I could walk over to him, distract him, and insult him, he made a bee-line straight towards Brittany. "Let me help you with that." The tall football player easily grabbed a handful of shot glasses.
"Thank you kind sir." Brittany said before looking to me and waving me over.
I noticed a flash of fear pass over him at the sight of me. He didn't run away though. He was too enveloped in Brittany to even take his eyes off of her.
"Of course." His eyes flickered down to her chest and back up to her face. "Brittany right? I've seen you cheering on the sidelines." His hand reached out and grabbed the white leather jacket she was wearing. "Biker huh?"
"Nope." Brittany looked to me as I stopped almost in between her and Karofsky. "It's Santana's. She was nice enough to let me wear it."
"Hm." I folded my arms and glared at Karofsky. Brittany may not know what his intentions are, but I sure as hell do.
His friends approached. A few more guys from the football team that I didn't recognize right away.
"Let's take a shot ladies." Karofsky said to Brittany intentionally avoiding eye contact with me.
"Lets!" Brittany jumped in excitement, now making it impossible for me to refuse his offer.
Karofsky quickly began lining up the shot glasses for all five of us giving me an opportunity to whisper something to Brittany. I leaned in close to her, clasping her shoulders, and pressed my mouth against her ear. "Britt play it cool." I pulled back.
She leaned in. "He's not on my list though." She pulled back and looked sincerely upset at my disapproval.
I just shook my head, causing her to pout even more.
A shot glass was shoved in between our faces. That wiped her frown upside down. Brittany grabbed the first glass, paused, and then handed it to me. She turned around and grabbed a second from the counter for herself.
The song changed and the bass started beating harder off the wall. Standing there, I knew exactly what was going to happen. A few too many shots and Britt and I would be dancing. It's happened numerous times before, but never before had I known what she told me this morning. I'd always danced with her just for fun, or to tease other guys. Would dancing with her be different if I was doing it for a different reason?
The five of us raised our shot glasses in the middle. The light brown whiskey sloshed around and almost slipped over the rim.
I tossed back the whiskey and swallowed it in one huge gulp, making sure to taste it as little as possible. My throat tightened its gag reflex and I waited to make sure the alcohol was going to stay down.
"Ugh, yuck," Brittany contorted her face. "Not like syrup."
I let out a faint laugh. The alcohol, whether it was kicking in or not, had already begun to lighten my mood. Suddenly I didn't care about Karofsky, or my awkwardness towards Brittany I was trying to get rid of.
One of the unknown football players grabbed the shot glasses from our hands and began filling them again. "Body shots are coming up later," He said to himself, but made sure we heard.
Brittany smiled and frantically clapped. I smiled too, trying to hide the rampage my heart was causing within me. We'd done body shots before, just like we had danced before, but why was I know freaking out?
My same shot glass, full again, was handed back to me. I didn't wait for him to fill the other football player's glasses, I just waited for Brittany. I winked at her and we downed our second round.
"I wanna dance San." Brittany begged me. She grabbed my hand and linked her fingers through mine.
The boys heard this and quickly interjected. "Woah, woah. Not before I make you ladies a drink." Karofsky spoke as he pulled out a pair of tall pink plastic cups from the cupboard.
The two of us watched as he poured different types of alcohol and juice in the cups. I'd never seen him work so desperately to keep me around. Usually he was running off in the opposite direction. But I didn't blame him for his current desperation, especially with what Brittany and I were wearing. Plus I'm sure he knows of our reputation. Brittany's list, and the fact that I'm not exactly shy. I know Puckerman talks.
Karofsky handed us each a cup after he'd poured another round of shots. My stomach turned at the sight of the alcohol. This is going to turn out bad. I knew it. But still I openly accepted the shot glass and downed it without a complaint, thankful for the mixed drink to chase it down. Brittany mimicked me, and chased her own shot.
We hung around the guys for at least another ten minutes talking about nothing important. I took notice each time one of them glanced at Brittany's legs or chest. There glances made me want to reach back and grab her hand, but I figured that would be a little too obvious. After we had been given our last shot, neither she nor I had the guts to reach back for each other. Well, I didn't have the guts, she may have, but she was too distracted.
"So you guys play good football right?" Brittany questioned.
I knew her question was a little peculiar, but the guys had no problem going along with it. In fact, they encouraged it. The only thing that kept me from dragging Brittany away from their wandering eyes was the fact that she looked like she was having fun. People were fascinated with her and what she had to say, or so she thought. I wasn't about to take that away.
"Yeah gorgeous," one of the unfamiliar guys spoke. "Linebacker."
"Does that mean you stay back from a line?" Brittany spoke. Her words skipped over each other, only slightly, which indicted she was getting a little tipsy.
They laughed, but only to humor her. They weren't laughing at her. It was either because I was standing right there, or they knew that making fun over her would land them no chance to get anywhere with her. "Not exactly, but close." Karofsky responded.
Brittany turned to me with her face inches from mine. "I've gotta pee."
I nodded and grabbed for her hand. She smiled and we began toward the hallway after setting our empty cups on the counter.
"Ladies," one of the football players called after us. "You comin' back?"
"You'll have to find us," I smiled and winked at them. Internally I slapped myself. What the hell Santana? The alcohol was definitely starting to work. I was already enough of a sober-flirt, I don't need alcohol telling me it's okay to flirt with oafs.
There high-fives echoed behind us as I pulled Brittany down the hallway. No more than two steps later, Puck jumped out in front of us. It was as if he was psychic, or at least his libido was. "Glad you made it." He leaned in towards me until his lips met mine.
At first I resisted. I still had Brittany in my hand and knew she had to use the bathroom. But the second his lips touched mine I gave in. His normal everyday Puckerman charm, plus alcohol, left me helpless. His hands grasped tightly around my waist as he pushed me back into the wall. His strong grip only intensified my desire. I knew he wanted me.
I could taste vodka on his breath. It was like kissing sexy rubbing alcohol.
His hands rubbed up and down my sides in rhythm with my breathing. I knew I was still holding onto Brittany. I was about to push him away, until he shoved his tongue into my mouth causing my knees to buckle. My lungs were dying to catch a breath of air, but his tongue forced me otherwise.
Finally, he pulled his mouth away from mine and anxiously began to kiss down my jaw and nibble around my neck. My head tilted back from impulse. I wanted to expose even more of my neck for him to play with.
I opened my eyes to notice Brittany staring at us. Her hand was still linked with mine, while she patiently waited.
Ashamed and embarrassed I pushed Puck away with my free arm.
"Enough Puck." I groaned at him.
"Oh come on you tease." His eyes never fully locked with mine, signaling he was beyond tipsy.
I hated when he called me a tease, because I knew that's what everyone called Quinn. And he knew I hated it. "Run along. I'm not drunk enough to be with you yet." I tried to insult him.
"You weren't drunk at all last night." He retorted.
He looked down to my hand that was still pressed against his chest. His eyes then began to search for my other hand. That's when he found me linked to Brittany. "He there sexy."
"Hey." Brittany said dully. Her lack of emotion wasn't because she was drunk, and it wasn't because she had just witnessed us make out. It was because of what happened this morning. She thinks I'll get mad at her if she talks to him.
"Oh you wish." I snapped. "Ella esta Buena, too hot for you." The words spilled out without a filter.
"What'd you say?" Puck smiled and leaned closer to us. I felt Brittany's hand tighten around mine.
"I'm here with Santana." Brittany said. "Both her and I don't approve of you."
I exchanged a smile with her. She always was on the same page as I was.
"Fine." Puck raised his hands in defense. "At least take a shot of Tarantula with me." He scurried back into a room.
We waited in the hallway.
"A real Tarantula? I don't like spiders." Brittany turned to me, making sure to leave her hand entwined with mine.
"No not a tarantula spider, Tarantula Tequila." I corrected her. Being drunk, I actually understood where her concern came from. The first time someone had offered me Tarantula I freaked out a little too.
"Tequila makes your clothes fall off." Brittany said as Puck emerged from the room with a bottle and three small Dixie cups. I knew she was quoting a popular saying, but it seemed to be directed towards me.
"Yes ladies, it does." Puck answered Brittany and handed us each an empty Dixie cup. He filled our cups, and then his, with the blue Tequila.
"Bottoms up," I raised my glass to the two of them. They followed, and I downed my fourth shot.
The Tequila was much better than the whiskey, so it wasn't as hard to swallow. Brittany seemed to disagree and I her hand shot up to her mouth to hold back a gag.
"You okay Britt?" I asked as I tossed my empty cup at Puck.
"Yeah," she smiled at the wall in front of us, covering up a look of disgust on her face. "I don't think I like that one."
I grabbed her empty cup and tossed it at Puck as well. "Bye." I said to him as I pulled Brittany towards the bathroom.
"Find me later when the Tequila kicks in," he called toward us.
The two of use squeezed through the crowd and eventually made it to a locked bathroom door.
"I forgot I had to pee." Brittany said as she jiggled the door handle.
"Hurry up!" I pounded on the shaky wood.
"Do you like him?" Brittany asked me. Her hand once again tightened around my own. It reminded me of our conversation, and of the previous awkwardness I had felt. Right now though her closeness didn't bother me. I knew it was because of the alcohol, and I knew anything she said tonight wouldn't bother me either.
"He's okay," I shrugged. It was an honest answer.
"Why do you get so possessive of him if he's only okay?" Brittany continued to interview me.
"I don't know." I was a little taken off guard by her questioning. She'd gone from asking if our last alcohol had real spiders in it, to asking me why I act a certain way towards Puck. And it wasn't something I had previously discussed with her, so she had to have noticed on her own. "I guess I just don't like things taken from me."
She tightened her grip on my hand even more. I knew she was about to ask a question that hinted something about us. Her clenching grasp around my hand signaled so. Something like, would you like me taken away?
Instead she said something entirely off beat, "I think I saw that gay kid here. Kurt."
I scanned the hallway, not seeing him, and then looked to her with my eyebrow raised. It took me a moment to fully take in her question. It wasn't that far off topic…in fact it stepped right into the topic more so than any other question would have.
I pounded on the door, and pretended that I hadn't understood her question. "Hurry up or-" The door swung open before I could finish. A drunk girl stumbled out and we ran in.
Brittany right away began unbuttoning her pants. I quickly shut and locked the door. Thank goodness I was here...
"These are too tight," She struggled to pull her shorts down.
"You've gotta hook your thumbs in first," I spoke as I walked toward her. My thumbs hooked in between the fabric and the skin of her hip. I clenched the jean shorts and only eased them down an inch, like I was loosening the cap to a jelly jar.
"Got it," Brittany followed my lead and finished getting her shorts down.
I ignored her and sat perched up on the sink, inspecting my knee-high boots. From the corner of my eye I could see her swaying slightly on the toilet. I took a mental note to limit her future alcohol consumption for the night.
"Do you got to pee?" Brittany asked from the toilet.
"Nah," I looked at her. She was having a hard time ripping the toilet paper. "Not yet."
"At least you got a dress on. It'll be easy to pull up later." Brittany smiled when she finally ripped more than her fair share of toilet paper off the roll.
"Let's go dance?" I suggested before I could fully process what she had said. Plus, dancing sounded fun and I knew it would keep her away from alcohol for a little.