We auditioned for Mr. Shuester the next day. As always, our routine was smooth, and I'll admit I was even a little surprised to discover during our practice the night before that we actually harmonized really well together. The three of us had always sung along to the radio when we hung out, but none of us ever really put actual effort into doing it properly. Apparently our performance gave Shuester an enormous musical boner because he was creepily enthusiastic when he shook all of our hands and welcomed us into the freakshow before we left the choir room.

News had always traveled around McKinley very quickly, but even I was astonished that Coach Sylvester found out about our audition as fast as she did. During third period, her voice screeched over the intercom, demanding my presence in her office. Brittany and Quinn were already seated when I arrived, apparently having been called out of their classes as well. My nerves were on edge. I just knew that she was about to kick all three of us off the squad.

We sat there in silence for a few moments while Coach Sylvester eyed us. If I hadn't been so anxious, I would have laughed at Quinn's pathetic begging, but as it were, I was thankful that I didn't have to resort to my own brand of begging either. The truth about Sue's strange vendetta against Mr. Shuester finally came to light when she ranted about our budget being cut back because of Glee Club. Thankfully, it was her insane drive for revenge that kept us on the team, and the wash of relief I felt when she actually gave her approval was like a tidal wave. I didn't particularly love being a Cheerio, but the few minutes where I'd convinced myself that I would no longer be part of Sue's squad had terrified me. To think that I'd dropped from the top to the bottom of the food chain in the high school circuit in just seconds made me cringe.

Coach's master plan was to bring down their confidence in Shuester. It was up to us to start planting the seeds of doubt in their minds. Sue wanted us to convince them that outside help was needed so that we could break them down quickly. Apparently, there's actually a market for show choir consults. Who knew?

Rachel seemed reluctant at first, but after convincing her that using a trained choreographer was basically guaranteeing a win, she jumped on board rather quickly, followed by the rest of them. Finn was the only one still supporting Mr. Shuester, and I could tell it annoyed Quinn that he refused to take her side, but for the most part, she ignored him as we continued to receive our orders from Sue and use our influence to start messing with our newest teammates.

When we took a trip to watch Dakota Stanley work with Vocal Adrenaline, Brittany and I rode with Quinn while the other Glee clubbers carpooled with Kurt in his Navigator. The rehearsal was like a hyped-up Cheerios practice with singing. Dakota could have been Sue's younger brother. He was vicious and cruel with his truth. His methods had no effect on the three of us, but the look of horror that crossed the other four's faces was encouraging. Luckily for Sue's plan, it wasn't enough to discourage them from inquiring about his services. On the way home, the three of us laughed about how much easier destroying them was going to be than we'd originally anticipated.

The next day was Friday, and it was also the night of Elliott Shearer's party. Rumor had it that Coach Tanaka rescheduled the game for the afternoon because he finally convinced that weird counselor he was dating to go to some monster truck rally in Columbus. Regardless, it was the perfect excuse for everyone to show up to Elliott's. The plan was for Quinn and Brittany to meet at my house. My mother had agreed to take us on their way to a retirement dinner for some old guy in our church. Because Abuela was going to ride with them, they would have to drop us off early so that they could pick her up before they went to the dinner, so it worked out perfectly for the three of us because we'd be at Elliott's before everyone got completely smashed.

Just a little after 4:30, I heard Brittany calling out my name as she bounded up the stairs. I let her know I was in my room, and she came through the door with a slight frown.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Quinn's not coming."

I rolled my eyes and kept digging through my closet looking for something to wear. "Why not? Would Russell not let her out of the house?"

"No," she said, plopping down in the chair beside my dresser. "She said she wasn't feeling well."

It wasn't like Quinn to miss a party for something so trivial. "Is she sick? She looked fine yesterday."

"I don't know. She wouldn't say anything except that she would see us Monday."

I hummed in acknowledgment and continued to look through my closet. I turned to see what Brittany was wearing. She had on black slacks and a loose red sweater with purple flats. I didn't know if she was planning to change into something I had here or not. "Is that your outfit for tonight?"

She stood and did a small twirl. "Yeah. I wanted to wear a skirt, but it's supposed to be cold, so…"

I turned back to my closet and slid a few more hangers around. "I can't decide on anything."

Brittany walked over to me, standing just behind my shoulder and reached over me to pull out a pair of dark skinny jeans and a long-sleeved blue and white striped cotton top. She handed the clothes to me and proceeded to dig around my extensive shoe collection at the bottom of the closet until she found an acceptable pair of heels to go with the outfit.

"Put these on, and I'll finish your make up. Then you can do my hair."

I couldn't stop the smile creeping onto my face. She grinned back at me and then turned towards my dresser to start organizing her supplies. I laid the clothes on the end of the bed and stripped down to my underwear. As I was pulling on my shirt, I caught Brittany watching me in the mirror. When she saw me, she looked back down quickly, busying herself with my makeup brushes and powders. A warm satisfaction filled my chest. It made me feel like laughing, but I didn't. Instead, I finished dressing, occasionally taking a peek towards Brittany as I did, but she never looked up until I sat down in the chair.

I didn't mention her sly glances as she worked on my makeup. Instead, we made small talk while we finished getting ready. When I started curling her hair, Brittany talked about Sue's plans for the car wash fundraiser scheduled for the following Tuesday and how she thought that we could make a lot more money for Glee Club if Coach Sylvester would let us wash the cars naked. She was smiling as she said it, and I laughed. I told her I was pretty sure that would be illegal.

After we were both ready, we met my parents downstairs and piled into the car. We'd left in the right amount of time to ensure they stayed clueless about the actual atmosphere of Elliott's party. When we pulled up to his house, I was convinced we'd escaped and gotten away with it until my dad asked, "How are you two getting home, Santana?"

My hand paused on the door handle as I scrambled for an answer. I hadn't thought that far ahead. I figured we'd hitch a ride back with whoever was sober enough to drive, but I knew that wouldn't fly with them.

"Um…"

"Karly's mom is taking us home," Brittany offered.

Mami turned around in her seat to look at us. "Karly who?"

"Roberson," I answered, picking up where Brittany had started, "She's just a freshman, but you know her dad. He works with Uncle Nathan."

Papi met my eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Jim Roberson?"

"Yeah, that's him. Do you want me to call her mom so you can talk to her?" I held my breath, waiting for their response. It was a gamble. We could very well be caught in our lie, but I was hoping my confidence would convince them we were telling the truth. Thankfully, it worked.

"No," Mami shook her head. "You girls go on and have a good time. Santana, remember: be home by midnight."

"Yes, ma'am"

Brittany and I said goodbye to my parents and climbed out of the car, linking pinkies as we walked up the long driveway that led to Elliott's house. As I predicted, there weren't many people there, but as we watched my parents drive away, more people started arriving. I'd seen Puck's truck parked in the driveway, so I knew he'd be inside somewhere. Brittany and I found him in the kitchen with Finn and Elliott setting up the bar for the night.

"Where's Quinn?" Puck asked.

I scowled. "That is so not how you greet your girlfriend."

Puck put his hand over his heart and arranged his face into a mocking apologetic expression. "I'm so sorry. Where are my manners? Hello, ladies. Where's Quinn?"

"Asshole," I muttered, ignoring him and walking directly over to the red cups.

Brittany was more cooperative and told them about her conversation with Quinn. I handed her a drink and watched Finn look between us with confusion.

"So, she's not coming?" he asked.

Whatever Quinn sees in him is apparently invisible to the rest of society because Finn is probably the dumbest person on the planet. I grabbed Brittany's hand and tugged her out of the kitchen. "Oh my god. Come on, Brittany."

More people were streaming into the kitchen to pick up their drinks, and we took up our spot against the wall opposite of the front door to watch those arriving to the party. After a few minutes, Puck, Finn, Mike, and Elliott approached us with a few dozen cups and a folding table.

"Excuse us, ladies," Puck drawled. "This is the reserved space for the beer pong tournament. Would you like to be written into the bracket?"

Declining, the two of us stood to the side as they set up their table. Finn taped a posterboard containing an empty bracket to the wall. After a few minutes, it had been filled with several names. Puck and Finn took the first round, playing against Azimio and some dark haired boy I'd never seen before. Brittany and I watched them play the first game since there was nothing better to do.

After crushing their opponents, Puck was under the delusion that Brittany and I were good luck and demanded that we stay near while they played. I made him promise to stay away from us for the rest of the night, and he agreed, as long as he and Finn weren't playing.

"This party kind of blows," Brittany whispered when we sat down on a couch to watch the next round of pong. She had a point. There was no music, and only a few of the Cheerios actually showed up. There were some volleyball players that had made an appearance, but I didn't know any of them.

"Mhmm. It looks like we'll be making an early exit tonight."

"But Puck said we were his good luck."

"Puck's an idiot," I said, finishing the last of my drink. "Ready for a refill?"

"Why are you dating Puck when you don't like him very much?" Brittany questioned as we walked back into the kitchen.

"I don't know." I stalled, pouring slowly to think of a response. "I guess because he's there? I don't have to worry about losers trying to come on to me if they're afraid Puck will toss them into the dumpster. Plus, he's always good for a booty call if I ever want it."

Brittany took her drink from me. "You and I both know Puck isn't that great. And there are tons of people who'd kill to have the chance to sleep with you, if that's what you're concerned about."

I leaned back against the counter and watched the boys play their game. I didn't say anything for a moment. I couldn't really convince myself of the real reason I was with Puck. I didn't know if there was a real reason at all, so I said the closest thing to truth I could think of.

"It would look weird if I wasn't with anyone. And Puck is the best option, I guess."

"He's not the only option," Brittany suggested, nudging her elbow against mine.

I looked up at her. She was smiling at me like she had a secret that she was dying to tell. "What do you mean?"

Brittany leaned down towards my ear. "Matt is totally crushing on you."

My eyes cut across the living room to see him quickly glance away from where he'd been watching us and back to the game, where he was paired with Mike. I looked back at Brittany. "How do you know?"

"Mike told me," she said, sipping from her cup. "And Matt makes it painfully obvious."

He was staring at us again when I turned my head. This time, he awkwardly turned towards the pong table and got a weird look from his partner. I didn't know how to respond to this new piece of information, so I changed the subject. "Has Mike asked you out yet?"

Brittany sighed and swirled her drink in her cup. "Not yet. I think he might not be interested anymore…"

Mike was laughing and pointing at the other team. Apparently they had just spilled one of their cups all over the table to raucous laughter. "That's crazy. Who in their right mind wouldn't be interested in you?"

Brittany bit her lip and continued to swirl her drink. "He hasn't really talked to me in about a week."

"Maybe he's just been busy with football. I'm pretty sure I heard Puck and Finn griping about the extra practices that Tanaka's been forcing on them since they suck so much." I didn't know why I was taking up for Mike, but I didn't want Brittany to get down.

Her eyes were searching my face, but there was a small smile gracing her lips, as if she was tickled that I had given my approval. "You really think so?"

"I'm sure of it," I replied.

That made her smile grow, and she linked her pinkie in mine. Just then, we heard Puck yelling our names from the other side of the room.

"We're up again. I need our lucky ladies!" he called.

"Just a sec!" Brittany shouted back. I watched her top off our drinks and hold out two shots of a dark liquor. "Do one with me?"

I took one glass from her and tipped it back. Whiskey. Not a favorite. I coughed and chased it with a gulp from the Solo cup. Brittany linked her pinkie in mine again as we wove our way through the crowd and back to Puck's side. Within fifteen minutes, the game got a lot funnier. All of the players were significantly more buzzed than when they had started. Brittany and I were also both on the tipsy side of drunk. Whenever Puck and Finn started a game, he always had someone bring a new round of drinks for us. He said he didn't want us to wander too far away. Puck's boyish excitement and superstition were almost charming, but I found myself giggling more often at Brittany's commentary on the game.

Eventually, I felt the heavy need to use the bathroom. It was the first time I'd tried to move since Brittany and I left the kitchen, and my steps were a little wobbly. I didn't feel completely drunk, but I knew I should probably put a stop to the flow of alcohol for the night. I didn't want to arrive home and get grounded.

When I was done, my hand slid along the hallway's wall as I walked back towards the party. I could see the front door before I turned the corner and noticed a group of people walking out. I blinked, but I couldn't make out who they were, so I stepped back to Brittany's side. Apparently, my absence didn't go unnoticed. Brittany wrapped her arm through mine and laughed at Puck's outrage.

"Santana! Where have you been? We're getting stomped!"

"Nature was calling. I had to go."

Puck winced as Finn missed his next shot. "You couldn't have waited a little longer?"

"When you have to go, you have to go, Puck," Brittany explained, giggling at the incredulous look on his face.

There must have been some truth to the luck that Brittany and I provided because Puck and Finn lost that match and were subsequently eliminated from the tournament. The four of us moved away from the table, and I noticed that the rest of the room was a bit emptier than before.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"A few people had to leave early," Finn replied, looking down at his phone. "Quinn's texting me. I haven't talked to her today. I guess I should see how she's doing. I probably ought to go."

"Dude," Puck said, "Are you going to her house, now?"

"Mike and Matt were in that group," Brittany explained, having lost interest in the boys' conversation. "Their ride had to be back before his curfew."

I whipped my head around looking for a clock. I didn't want to miss mine. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to eleven."

I looked back at Puck, who was our only real option for getting home this late. He didn't look anywhere close to being able to drive. "Shit. I'm going to miss curfew. Can I tell Mami that I'm staying with you tonight?"

Brittany grinned. "Sure. We can have a slumber party after this party."

She didn't say anything particularly funny, but I drunkenly giggled. My fingers moved extra slowly as I typed out a text to my mother letting her know I would be staying with Brittany. My face was about three inches from the screen, checking for any misspelled words. Calling would have taken a lot less effort, but my slurred speech would have been a dead giveaway. When I looked up, Finn was gone, and Puck still looked sullen.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"We were this close to winning," he explained, holding his fingers an inch apart and squinting his eyes at me. "So close."

"Sorry we made you lose," Brittany offered.

I laughed and bumped her with my hip. "Don't apologize for something that's not our fault."

"You know, you could always make it up to me," he suggested, stepping a little closer.

I should have seen it coming, but the haze of alcohol had not lifted, and Puck looked so ridiculous as he looked between Brittany and me. I asked, "How?"

Puck put his hands on our shoulders and turned us so that his arms rested around them. "I'm feeling kind of depressed, but there's one thing that always lifts me up when I'm feeling down."

"An elevator?" Brittany deadpanned.

I laughed and playfully slapped at her. She broke and started giggling with me. Puck just looked confused for a moment. "That wasn't really what I had in mind."

"I'm sorry, Puck," she said. "I promise I'll be serious now."

I looked across at her solemn expression and started laughing again.

"Normally, I'd only ask Santana, but since both of you were supposed to be helping, it's only fair that the two of you help me out."

Brittany pulled a face at me and then turned back to Puck. "Help you with what?"

He lifted his eyebrows at us a few times before it clicked. "Oh my god, Puck. Stop trying to drag the two of us into your twisted fantasies," I reprimanded, pushing him away from us.

"Oh, come on," he whined. "It'd be totally hot and the perfect way to show me how sorry you are."

I looked at Brittany to see if she was as disgusted at his display of misogyny as I was, but she was looking at Puck curiously. "What would we have to do?"

My mouth dropped a bit, and Puck swelled with hope. "Like, you two could just make out, and then if you wanted, Brittany, you could join in when me and Santa–"

"Stop right there," I warned. "First of all, we are not here for your pornographic entertainment. Second of all, Brittany and Mike sort of have a thing, so doesn't inviting her into your pants violate some sort of weird bro-code or something?"

Brittany turned her curious stare towards me as Puck spluttered. "Brittany's not cheating if she's with another girl, and anyway, Mike hasn't said anything about it, so if they're not official, she's fair game."

I narrowed my eyes in an attempt to block out the fuzziness clouding my vision. "Brittany is not some object you can play with whenever your dick tingles."

I felt a slender hand slip into mine and squeeze. Brittany looked a little amused. My mouth shut on its own as I looked at her, slightly swaying from the drinks I'd had and slightly from the outburst I'd just displayed.

"I've kind of always wondered what it'd be like," she murmured, just low enough to keep Puck from hearing.

I couldn't tell if I was hearing her correctly. For a moment, the background noises disappeared, and all I saw in my periphery was blurriness. Brittany looked like she was waiting on me to say something.

"What?"

It was an ineloquent response, but my brain couldn't process anything else. Brittany asked Puck to give us a minute. He looked a little intrigued but slunk towards the couch a few feet away.

"I'm not trying to sway your decision if you're not interested, Santana," she spoke, looking a lot more sober than I felt, "but I think it could be fun. Especially since I already know you, and I guess Puck. Plus, I've kind of wanted to kiss you all night because you look really hot. And if you're really not into the idea, we could just make out a little for Puck and save the rest for my house, if you wanted."

I couldn't tell if I was having a weird dream or if it was actually happening. Never in a million years did I think I would actually be considering having a threesome with Puck, much less that the third person would be Brittany. My body was involuntarily reacting to her words. I watched as my hands wrapped around her arms to steady myself, and then heard my voice say, "Okay."

Brittany turned and led us over to Puck, who jumped up when he saw us approaching. The eager look on his face snapped my mind into a temporary sobriety, and I realized if I was actually about to go through with this, I had to lay down some ground rules.

"Before you say anything," I started, holding up a finger to silence him, "there are a few things you have to understand."

Puck grinned lecherously and nodded, so I continued, "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will cut off your dick. Got it?"

Again, he nodded a bit dumbly but with a more serious expression.

"You're not allowed to touch Brittany unless she gives you permission. And I don't want you thinking to can do any sort of weird kinky shit either."

Holding a hand over his heart, Puck promised, "I'll be good. I swear it!"

I looked to Brittany who squeezed my hand again, and the two of us followed Puck to the back of the house. My bravado from giving Puck the rules began melting away, and even in my inebriated state, I felt fear start to creep into my body. My hands started trembling at the realization of what I was heading into. If Brittany noticed, she didn't mention it, and I sure as hell didn't want to bring attention to the fact that I was having doubts. Puck held the door open to what looked to be a guestroom, and we walked inside. Once he closed the door and locked it, I felt frozen.

"What now?" Brittany asked.

He walked over to the foot of the bed and sat. "Why don't you two make out for a bit?"

"Okay," she replied easily.

Brittany turned to me, and I tried to not let my anxiety show. I shut my eyes quickly before she had a chance to look into them and leaned forward to kiss her. She took my hands in hers and pulled me closer, placing them on her waist so she could hold my jaw. Without prompting, Brittany took control, and for the first time, I felt myself let go just a little to follow her lead. After I refocused on what Brittany was doing, my body started to loosen. Muscle memory took over, and we fell into a familiar rhythm. We each took turns opening our mouths to let the other in, taking our time without a need to hurry. My hair was tangled around Brittany's fingers as she tilted my head to start kissing down my neck.

That's also when I felt a warm body approach me from behind. My fingers dug into Brittany's waist. I didn't know if she knew the real reason I'd tensed or if she thought it was in reaction to what she was doing. Whatever she thought, her hands moved from their place in my hair to underneath my shirt. Her mouth moved back to mine the instant I felt her cup my breasts. A surprised whimper escaped through my nose. When it did, Puck pressed against my back. His hands circled my waist and pulled me into him. I could feel his hard-on against my ass, and I cringed away, or at least, I tried. I was sandwiched tightly between the two of them. Rough stubble rubbed against my neck when Puck started kissing me behind my ear. Brittany's tongue was stroking mine insistently, and I was almost able to ignore his hands unbuttoning my jeans. She must have felt what he was doing because as soon as they were undone, Brittany pushed them to the ground and helped me step out of my heels.

Suddenly and without warning, the intense reality of the situation slammed into me. I was about to have sex. With Puck. And Brittany. Together. In the same room. I was about to sleep with my best friend for the first time, and I would be sharing that moment with a boy I didn't even like that much. Brittany and I had been giving each other orgasms since the summer, but it would be the first time we would be completely naked. And in all likelihood, we wouldn't just be grinding against each other. The dread that was starting to consume me originated from the sudden thought that I didn't want to participate in the threesome because I didn't want my first time with Brittany to be tainted by having to share the experience with Puck.

When I realized that I actually wanted a first time with Brittany, it was as if my lungs had stopped pulling in enough air. I froze, feeling claustrophobic, and then suddenly, I had to move. I broke my kiss with Brittany and slipped out from their grasps. I tried taking a breath, but I couldn't get enough oxygen.

Brittany asked me if I was alright and held out her hand to touch me, but I stepped away. I fell back on my old standby of needing to use the restroom and made a beeline for the door. I barely registered Puck making the comment We'll be here when you get back as I fled through the doorway.

There was still a lot of noise floating down the hall, so I knew there were several people were still around. The bathroom became my only option of escape, and I stumbled inside. The combination of alcohol and unsteady breathing made my head feel light and my knees feel weak. I was able to close the door before my legs gave out, and I slid down the wall. My hand feebly reached for the lock on the door. Once I managed to twist it, my chest started heaving, trying to take in air.

It was impossible to get my body under control. The only thing my mind could process was the fact that I had just admitted to myself that I wanted to sleep with Brittany. Even though we'd been regularly making out, and I'd gotten over my initial timidity, I had convinced myself that there was nothing gay about what we were doing. It was just something the two of us did because it felt good and there were no boys around. But sitting in that bathroom, feeling frozen and gasping for breath, for the first time I entertained the idea that Brittany might be more than a best friend. That what I felt for her could be…a crush.

I shook my head furiously at the thought, causing tears to fall down my cheeks. I couldn't have a crush on Brittany. I knew that I was straight. Brittany was attractive and funny and the best friend I'd ever had, but that didn't mean I liked her like that. I wanted to believe so badly that every girl felt this way about her friends, but a nagging voice at the back of my head reminded me that I didn't kiss Quinn, and I surely didn't have a desire to sleep with her.

My body was shaking with full blown sobs when I heard a knock on the door and Brittany's soft calling of my name. I didn't want her to see me like this because I didn't want to have to explain why I was crying uncontrollably in a bathroom instead of making out with her and Puck.

"Santana, let me in. I can hear you hyperventilating through the door. Please, Santana, just let me in," she pleaded.

I was feeling too dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the waning influence of all of the drinks I'd had, but somehow, I was able to command my arm to unlock the door. Brittany burst through and closed the door quickly behind her, falling to her knees in front of me. Immediately, I noticed that she was no longer wearing her sweater. My imagination went wild with scenarios of her and Puck together while I was gone from the room. The thought made my chest constrict, and I started choking. Brittany took my face in her hands and forced me to look at her.

"Santana, I need you to breathe. Take deep breaths, honey. Slow."

She was doing her best to stay calm, but I could see in her eyes that she was scared, which terrified me and only made things worse.

"Britt–I can't–br–"

"Yes, you can. Slow. Come on, Santana. Breathe through your mouth. Slow. That's it."

I mimicked her by pursing my lips and tried hard to breathe with her, but my body kept rebelling against me, sucking in quickly, causing me to take short, sharp gasps instead of the steady inhale and exhale Brittany was coaching. As I worked to get my lungs to work properly, she stroked my hair away from my face and wiped my tears away, offering soft words of encouragement. After several minutes, I managed to calm myself down and started breathing normally, with only a few sniffles every few seconds. When she thought I could speak, Brittany asked, "What happened?"

Exhaustion was beginning to overtake me. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall, trying to decide what to tell her. There was no way in Hell that I would tell her the truth. Instead, I settled for something that wasn't completely untrue.

"I drank too much."

My eyes remained closed as she stroked her thumbs over the back of my hands. I felt terrible for making her worry, but I didn't have the energy to try and reassure her.

"Do you want to leave?"

I nodded but didn't make any attempt to move. Brittany told me to stay where I was and that she would be right back. I slumped against the cabinet next to me, using it and the wall to keep me propped upright. I felt sleep start to set in, but Brittany returned before I could completely pass out. Her sweater was back on, and my pants and heels were in her hands.

"I told Puck that you weren't feeling well and that you'd probably puke on him if I didn't take you home."

I smiled weakly and allowed her to help me to my feet. She turned me so that the counter was supporting the majority of my weight and allowed me to use her shoulders to balance as I slipped my legs back into my jeans. She decided to forgo helping me into my shoes and directed us back into the hallway. Somehow, we managed to slip past the few stragglers remaining in the living room and walked outside into the cool October air. I felt horribly sober and utterly embarrassed as we sat down on the porch swing.

"I'm sorry."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brittany turn her head to look at me. "For what?"

"Everything. How I acted. I drank too much," I repeated.

Her fingers tangled with mine and she rested her temple against the top of my head. "If you didn't want to do the thing with Puck, you should have told me."

"It's not that," I started and then hesitated. "I just didn't want to sleep with him," I finished quietly.

Still refusing to look at her, I could tell she was searching my profile for any hint of…I didn't know what. Thankfully, she didn't press the matter, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. That is, until her mother's car pulled up to the curb. I jumped up, panicking.

"Fuck! Brittany, your mom's here!"

She linked her arm in mine and started the long walk across the front yard towards the car. "I know. I called her when I left you in the bathroom."

"Why would you do that?" I hissed, feeling tears prickling against my eyes once more. I quickly convinced myself that my parents were going to kill me because they were going to find out about everything – the drinking, the failed threesome…my crush – everything.

"She told me that if I ever got stuck at a party, no matter what time it was or what I'd been doing, she wanted me to call her. Mom said it was better than getting in a car with someone too drunk to drive, and Puck was still super drunk when I went back to the bedroom."

I watched as Carolyn jumped out of the car and hurried forward to meet us. I was crying by the time she got to us.

"Santana, what's wrong? What happened?" she asked, looking as worried as Brittany had been.

I did my best to look as if I hadn't drunk seven cups of God knows what, but my incessant weeping prevented that from happening. Thankfully, Brittany once again came to my rescue.

"She's just not feeling well. Our ride ditched us, and there wasn't anyone else available to take us home."

Carolyn rubbed her hand against my back in the standard mothering comfort move. I'm sure the worst scenarios were playing through her mind. "Are you sure you're alright, Santana?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said in the most convincing voice I could. "Just sick, is all."

I don't think I managed to succeed in reassuring her, but she ushered us into the car without any more questions. As her mother pulled back onto the street, Brittany asked if it was okay for me to stay the night, to which Carolyn replied, "Of course." That was the last thing I remembered before finally giving in to the overwhelming exhaustion that was begging my body for sleep.