Doing It Right (13/19)
Title: Doing It Right, Chapter 13: The Things Santana Does Best
Author: creedogv
Rating: T
Summary: Santana has been given the opportunity to correct her past mistakes with Brittany, so she can’t help but take it. After winter break, Santana finds herself eavesdropping a lot, saving Brittany’s life, and discovering a crack in Artie and Brittany’s relationship.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Spoilers: 2x11 “The Sue Sylvester Shuffle”
Author’s Note: To be honest, I couldn’t remember half of the plotlines in this episode, yet somehow it produced two chapters worth of material.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12
With Brittany’s contact profile pulled up on her phone, Santana’s finger was poised over the Call button, but a buzzing sound and a popup message delayed her from pressing it. It was text message from Kurt. The preview stated briefly: “You still have a…” When she checked the message, the rest read: “…chance with Brittany. Courage.”
She put down the phone and exited out of Brittany’s profile. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, to chicken out and take the easy route. She’d undergone a journey she didn’t understand, didn’t even quite believe in at first, and no way was she going to abort if she might just fix everything.
“You still have a chance with Brittany.” Hell, yeah, I do.
* * *
Brittany’s family had traveled to Pennsylvania for the winter break, so Santana’s interactions with her best friend were limited to phone calls and texting. She was ready to make up the time once they were back at school.
Ever since being dropped from the Cheerios, Santana had found that she remained lucid during the time Cheerios practice took place, so she’d begun sneaking into the gym and watching the routines from underneath the bleachers, where Sue wouldn’t see her. Becky had immediately located her the first time she tried this, but the girl was easily bribed with a rice-crispy treat she had in her backpack. So, every day, she’d bring the girl some kind of sweet: a cookie, a brownie, a cupcake, a lollipop; and in return she was allowed to watch the squad, or more specifically, Brittany.
God, how does she looks so sexy even with blue hair?
* * *
Santana attended the football games for the same reason that she attended Cheerios practices. It somehow became her routine to sit between Kurt and Rachel, who both watched a certain quarterback while she watched a certain cheerleader. She noticed that Brittany and Artie, despite spending the majority of the game on the sidelines-The Wheeled Battering Ram turned out to be a gimmick that they could only play every once in a while-they didn’t tend to talk much. In fact, their sole interaction was a sweet exchange of hand-waving at the start of each game.
During timeouts, Santana’s mind tended to wander. How did I get to the point where I can manage sitting beside Rachel without puking? Once news traveled around the club that Santana and Kurt were friends, Rachel made it her mission to befriend the normally reclusive girl, too. The singer assumed it had something to do with their shared sexual orientation, so she’d hit Santana with a full court press monologue about her two gay dads one day. Santana was ready to bite back with one of her typical cutting remarks, but she noticed Brittany grinning at her. Brittany of course thought it was just fantastic that Santana was being friendly for once, so Santana caved into a bizarre dinner date with the diva, the other diva, and the first diva’s lumbering boyfriend. She drew the line at becoming a founding member of the GayLesbAll, however.
“You’re our ‘Lesb’! We need a ‘lesb’!” Rachel cried.
“Then you get under some girl’s skirt. I’ll have your toaster oven ready.”
“That was an Ellen joke!”
“Yes, I know. Kurt’s shown me that damn episode three times.”
So, here she was, sandwiched between the two least popular kids at McKinley, both of whom just grabbed one of her hands in surprise. She looked up and saw Finn flat on his back in the middle of the football field, Karofsky’s bulky form laughing then being dragged off field by his faceguard by Coach Beiste.
One turnover later, and McKinley had lost their last conference game. The sport section in the next day’s newspaper would report that the Titans were predicted to lose the championship game.
* * *
“Oh my god, Artie!” Tina exclaimed in the glee the next day.
Artie was covered head-to-toe in slushy. Only now that it had already occurred, Santana remembered the event happening the first time. Brittany jumped up from her seat beside Santana and raced toward him. Kurt’s comforting hand was on her leg. “Let her.”
“I know.”
Finn jumped up. “This ends here.”
Puck followed, along with Mike and Sam. “We’ll go… Thunder Dome on those guys!”
They were met halfway by the rest of the football team, who walked into the choir room. Her ability to process the events, much less put her scheming mind to work, froze, as she flashed back to being slushied by the same group the previous month.
If Kurt hadn’t pulled her from her seat, she wouldn’t have known to protest Mr. Schue drafting them into the glee club.
“Hell to the no!” Mercedes screamed.
“Mr. Schue, are you serious?” Finn proclaimed, “These are the guys who’ve been torturing Kurt and Santana all year!”
“I will not share the room with these homophobes!” Rachel added.
The football players were no less receptive. After Schuester and Beiste finally calmed the crowd, Rachel and Puck sang a Lady Antebellum song as an attempt to get the football players to see how “cool” glee was. Santana thought they might have better luck with some Black Eyed Peas or Chris Brown. She turned to Kurt, “I can’t believe Mr. Schue is even letting Karofsky in the room after what he said to you.” Kurt was silent. “You didn’t tell him? The entire club was there! You’ve got witnesses.” He just shook his head.
The song ended and Azimio was an asshole and a fight broke out and Kurt used the distraction to leave the room. Mr. Schue noticed and asked about his whereabouts. Santana turned her head to glare at the bullies.
Azimio shot his mouth off again. “I guess he was overwhelmed. This is the first time there’s been any testosterone in this room.”
“Adams!” Beiste screamed.
Santana noticed Karofsky was watching the door with an emotion she couldn’t identify, but at the same time seemed familiar. He wasn’t angry; he seemed depressed even.
I can relate.
I can relate?
“Coach,” another football player called. Santana couldn’t place his name. It was something weird and Italian, like Stello or Lando. He didn’t look Italian: rotund with a head of dirty blond hair. “Can we just forget this? I want to get out of here before I grow a pair of breasts.”
“I think you’re too late,” Quinn quipped. Santana thought that maybe that was supposed to be her line.
Azimio seemed to notice Karofsky’s silence. “Hey, Dave, man, don’t you got nothing to say about this?”
“I want to win the championship. That’s all.”
* * *
“Sue got a cannon,” Quinn told her in lieu of a hello.
Santana nodded; she knew what that meant. “Yeah, I saw it out on the field.”
“She wants to shoot Brittany out of it.”
“Well, she’s not going to,” Santana explained plainly.
“I already went to Mr. Schue and he got the school’s lawyer involved. Sue fired him obviously, but she mistakenly thought that meant his law license was revoked. I need you to help me talk Brittany out of signing anything Sue gives her.”
“Yeah. Of course. There’s not enough words meaning ‘yes’ to show how much I agree with you. I wouldn’t let Brittany fall into any danger.”
“She’s in real danger, you know. Sue tried to calm Brittany’s fears by shooting the Cheerio mannequin out of it. It’s in pieces.”
“I’ll handle it, Q.”
“Thanks.” Quinn tried to lighten the tone. “Remember what we dared you into doing to that mannequin at the beginning-of-year party?”
“Yeah, you made me make out with it. Hilarious.”
“It was… until you tried to go to third base and then it was just weird. Seriously, I thought Latinos were supposed to handle their tequila better. You really were the worst closeted lesbian ever.”
* * *
It was a miracle when Mr. Schue finally announced that the expanded glee club would be doing “Thriller.” The football players seemed to rein in their hatred. MJ apparently had some sway with even them, even if they were unfamiliar with The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, whose “Heads Will Roll” song they were mashing up “Thriller” with. Santana was even assigned a solo.
“You’re really lucky,” Brittany told Santana. “You get to do the show.”
“So would you, if you stayed behind.” She noticed Artie was intently following the conversation, but not offering up any support.
“It’s the Regional competition. Coach would kill me if I stayed.”
“Coach might kill you if you go.” Brittany seemed to take that to heart. “Don’t do the cannon stunt. We… the Cheerios don’t need it to win. Nationals are at the Cowboy Stadium in Dallas. It’s a dome; you’ll crash into the roof.”
Brittany hung her head, squeezing Artie’s hand for support.
Unwilling to watch, Santana turned to the empty chair beside her. Kurt had skipped practice. Kurt. When she looked up, she noticed that Karofsky was looking at the same spot she was.
* * *
After half an hour of zombie boot camp, the clubs were finally dismissed to practice makeup. Karofsky was held back by Mr. Schue, so Santana decided to put her hiding skills to work.
“Dave, it’s pretty obvious someone isn’t here.”
“Hummel,” he remarked with what Santana could hardly believe sounded like guilt.
“It’s no secret that you’ve been hard on him.”
“What? I mean, yeah.” He voiced trailed off, leaving the apology unsaid. “You’d rather him here than me. I suck.”
“On the contrary, you’re not half-bad, Dave. Now, I don’t know about your singing prowess, but your zombie moves are pretty inspired. You look like you’re having fun, so I’m thinking about putting you out front during the show.”
“Okay…”
“Still, it would mean a lot to me if you would apologize to Kurt. This whole exercise is about burying the hatchet. I’m not saying you can expect to make a lot of new friends, but you wouldn’t get so many dirty looks from my glee kids.”
Karofsky was saved from having to respond when Beiste came back out, calling for him, thinking he’d skipped out on makeup.
“I asked him to stay, Shannon. We’re done so you can send him back. Think about what I said, Dave.” Karofsky nodded and walked off, double-timing when Beiste swung at him with her playbook.
“I think this just might work, Will,” Beiste remarked.
“Yeah, these guys, they just need someone to tell them that they don’t have to be good at just one thing. I mean, two years ago, it was like Rachel was the only student at this school who realized you could be in more than one club. I’m pretty sure we were written up in a magazine as the most cliquish school in the nation.”
Beiste chuckled to herself. “Well, maybe we should try recruiting the Cheerios next. Perhaps it’d get Sue off our back. I think you could sweet-talk the new assistant coach.”
Oh no, Santana mentally cringed, I was hoping he’d stay ignorant of this development until at least next week.
“There’s a new Cheerios coach?”
“Sue’s pretty busy, what with being principal and having her cheerleading Regionals coming up, so she hired an assistant coach to work the girls. I think her name’s ‘Delmonico’.”
Santana could hear the frown in her director’s voice. “Oh, no, please don’t be.”
It is, Mr. Schue. I’m sorry. Santana ran off to the makeup room before she was missed.
* * *
Will was standing in the gym, and sure enough, his ex-wife Terri was calling out to the JV Cheerio squad in a tone that would make Sue proud. “C’mon, ladies! Let’s see some devotion! You made me a promise! I can forgive your mistakes, but you have to do better. That’s how it works!” She sighed. “Oh, it never works out like that. He leaves you. Alright, take a break!” She turned and gasped when her eyes fell upon her ex-husband, staring at her. After a psyching breath, she walked over. “Hello, Will.” She was wearing a track suit, much like her boss, a baby blue one, the jacket unzipped, displaying a tight white spaghetti tank.
“You took a job as the Cheerio coach?”
“Sue Sylvester offered me a very generous salary to do so. I believe it’s one dollar more than what you make.” Her grin is exactly the type that Will imagined Sue would have had when she thought it up. “But if you’re concerned that I’m here to win you back, you can rest assured that I am not. In fact, I went to confront the man-stealing ginger and she tells me that she’s engaged to my dentist. I think he’s the one man I would have been willing to leave you for. Eh, life goes on. But she also told me that you’ve taken up with the porn star.”
“She’s not a porn star, Terri. And Holly and I are seeing each other casually.”
“Come on, Will, don’t lie to me. My Cheerios are gossips. I know she stayed over after your Christmas party. Did you even change the sheets in our matrimonial bed before you began this liaison?”
“Terri, we’re divorced. I’ve moved on. You should, too.”
“I’ll have you know that I’m beating them off with a stick. There’s a very attractive young man who cleans my apartment complex’s swimming pool and he has a bit of thing for older women.”
“What happen to your job at Sheets ‘N’ Things?”
“They outsourced it to India.”
“I don’t understand how that works.”
At that moment, at Lima’s Sheets ‘N’ Things store, Figgins, the former principal of William McKinley High, is screaming at Howard Bamboo for improperly organizing the candles by height. “I’m color blind,” was Howard’s excuse.
* * *
It made sense that the combined brain power of Finn and Karofsky would decide to do a song by a band named The Zombies instead of a song having any relation to actual zombies.
But it’s too late to say you’re sorry
How would I know, why should I care
Please don’t bother tryin’ to find her
She’s not there
Kurt wasn’t there, so Santana could reasonably assume that Karofsky hadn’t taken Mr. Schue’s advice to heart and apologized. When she texted Kurt about his absenteeism, he replied with a lame excuse about feeling sick. Maybe it’s not so lame really. I’d feel sick, too.
After the performance, Artie came up to Brittany, who screamed, jumped into Santana’s lap, and dug her head into the Latina’s shoulder.
Ten minutes later, after washing off his makeup, Artie returned, asking for a minute alone. Santana reluctantly gave him it. Once barely hidden ten feet away-Brittany wasn’t overly observant and Artie distracted by Brittany no doubt-she overheard him ask invitingly, “So, can I come over tonight? I’m in a Mary Poppins mood.”
“Sure,” she replied dully.
“You don’t sound too excited.”
“No, it’s just… I kind of think we like different parts of the night. My favorite part is the cuddling and you seem to like… the not-cuddling that has less clothing.”
Artie laughed. “It’s okay, babe. Girls usually like the foreplay more than the main performance.”
Brittany just nodded. She didn’t remember liking foreplay better than sex with Santana. Then again, they were two different things, and different didn’t mean better. And Santana certainly had a favorite, and it definitely wasn’t the foreplay, not that she didn’t give in to Brittany’s desire for cuddling. In fact, in the time before she started dating Artie, Santana initiated the sweet lady kisses without asking. But Artie never slouched in making her feel loved. But this train of thought scared and confused her, so she just nodded with a weak smile.
Santana was eavesdropping. She didn’t know why the word hadn’t hit home until now. She was learning so much, though.
Well, isn’t that an interesting development.
* * *
The next day, Santana stopped Quinn and Brittany in the hall, each holding a document.
Santana crossed her arMs. “Those better not be what I think they are.”
Quinn admitted, “Glee or Cheerios. Coach turned it into a Sophie’s choice.”
“I think mine’s a Brittany’s choice,” the other girl pointed out.
“Coach would have kicked us off if we didn’t go to Regionals, but Mr. Schue would have let us stay if we did. But Coach changed the rules.”
“Pick glee then. It’s better.” Brittany bristled. Without looking at Brittany, Santana continued, “I know they’re different, but one makes you happier. One may do things for you, but the other fulfills your needs deep inside.”
“What are you talking about, Santana?” Quinn asked, one eyebrow raised.
Santana refocused on Quinn. “Let me start again. Sue needs you more than you need her. She can be replaced. Her star Cheerios can’t.”
“Plenty of ambitious girls on that team. And Coach Sylvester’s the best in the country.”
“Sue just wants to lord over people. She got to lord over students as Cheerio coach and now she’s splitting her time with playing principal because she can lord over teachers, too. And that’s why she replaced herself.”
“With Mr. Schue’s ex-wife, who hadn’t cheered in fifteen years and doesn’t have six National titles.”
“Now you’re talking like her! Listen to me, Q, you’re not in Cheerios to win competitions. You just like the popularity.”
“If we win competitions, I could get a scholarship!”
“You’ve got a four-point and no dreams of getting out of Ohio. You’re set, Barbie.”
“So maybe it is about popularity. You certainly haven’t fared well without the uniform.”
“My stock plummeted for an entirely different reason, but I’m happier; I’m not lying about who I am.”
Brittany bowed her head again, but Santana ignored her for the moment.
She continued with Quinn, her tougher opponent, “Sue dumped you without a second thought last year. She did the same to me less than a month ago. She doesn’t have an ounce of loyalty to you, and there’s no reason you should have any for her. To be honest, I would have loved the honor of telling her ‘Screw you’ but I didn’t get a chance. You think you’re head bitch? You’re Sue’s bitch. You know what you love more.”
“You’re right.” She ripped the resignation letter right there. “Thank you, Santana.”
“Please, we all know who the real HBIC is.” Quinn smiled and Santana could help but do so, too. Santana turned to Brittany, putting her hands on Brittany’s arMs. “You heard everything I said to Quinn, right? You weren’t thinking about helicopters or Inception or the evil gerbil army in your attic?”
“No, I heard.”
“That all goes for you, too. Brittany, you also can’t let Sue shoot you out of that cannon. I won’t let you. Life is not like Looney Tunes where you come out covered in soot if something goes wrong. If you land wrong, you could break your legs and not dance for months. If the cannon misfires, you could lose your legs and never dance again. You could die.”
“But the cannon has a family.” She handed Santana a crayon drawing that she was holding under her letter.
Santana turned to Quinn, who defended herself, “I tried to tell her that cannons don’t have families, but Coach gave her a PhotoShopped picture.”
“PhotoShop is a myth,” Brittany explained, “You can’t fake pictures. Encyclopedia Brown taught me that.”
Santana replied instantly, “Well, I’m sure that the cannon has a very nice family. But you know what that cannon doesn’t have?” She held up the drawing. “Hands to write you notes with.”
“Coach lied,” Brittany realized, taking the picture, and tearing it up. “Let’s go to glee.”
All that, and I also prevented that pissing contest between Finn and Sam.
“I do like being fought over, thought,” Quinn mused.
At first, Santana wondered if Quinn was reading her thoughts before realizing that two other people were fighting over her, for different reasons.
“Not everyone does,” Brittany remarked, two steps behind Quinn and Santana.
The moment the trio walked in the room, Finn rushed up. “Don’t do this.”
Santana smirked. “They’re not. Already got that taken care of.” Off Finn’s pathetic expression, she slugged him in the arm. “Thanks for helping, though. You just proved my point: we want you.” Her eyes fell on Quinn’s then Brittany’s.
Brittany found herself standing alone after Santana and Quinn took their seats. She hurried to take hers between Artie and Santana. After a moment, her eyes jumped to Santana’s thighs, which were exposed by her short, rainbow-striped shirt and knee-high boots. She’d noticed the cute skirt before, but now that its wearer was seated, it had ridden up and was exposing a lot of skin. Her eyes rose, taking in the sight of the tight button-up blouse Santana was wearing under a fuzzy white short jacket, the top three buttons undone, revealing generous cleavage, her breasts propped up by a bustier-style black tank. Brittany felt a low heat in her stomach that she hadn’t felt in a while.
Santana couldn’t help but notice that Brittany was unabashedly staring at her legs and chest with that look in her eye. She was even rubbing her thighs together, a habit she had which Santana remembered indicated when she wanted to stay late in the showers after Cheerios practice.
Well, look at that. Brittany’s got that I-would-grind-against-a-park-bench look. I guess Artie’s a triple threat: no experience, no stamina, and no lower body mobility. Brittany just realized that her boy toy can only satisfy her in one way, and now she’s aching for the whole package: some Latin lovin’. Time to do what Santana Lopez does best: seduction.
Santana stretched, pushing her chest out, causing the buttons of her shirt to strain, and the bottom to ride up, showing off a strip of midriff. She also stretched her legs by spreading her thighs, causing the hem of her already short skirt to ride up, closing her legs again as not to flash her underwear to Mr. Schue. Sure enough, Brittany’s eyes were bugged out even more; her hips even grinding into her seat. Pretending to be oblivious, Santana placed her hand on top of Brittany’s, which was perched tightly at the very top of her own thigh. “What’s up? You seemed restless. You ready to dance?” Brittany didn’t answer, just flipped her hand over to grab Santana’s, caressing the back with the pad of her thumb, and dragging it between her legs.
Santana widened her eyes dramatically, as if surprised. She leaned in closer, whispering. “Oh, Sweetie, not that kind of dance. I’m not saying I wouldn’t love to… love to, but you’ve got a serious-business boyfriend, and I care about you, and I don’t want to make you a cheater. So, let’s just leave those thoughts for our ‘me’ times, okay? That’s what I do.”
Brittany’s hips ground into the seat once more at the comment while Santana deliberately put her hands in her lap under the blonde’s watchful eye. “Yeah, we should do that,” she finally replied robotically. Suddenly, there was a crack as Brittany’s fuzzy-top pen, which she was holding in her other hand, snapped in half.
* * *
After practice, the glee club was walking with the football team towards the bathrooms to wash off their makeup, when the combined group was stopped by a group of tall boys wearing hockey jerseys.
“Hello, ladies,” greeted Scott Cooper, the captain of the hockey team. Santana didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but she stepped forward. The captain smirked. “I said ladies.”
“It’s okay,” Santana muttered, “I was confused, too. I was just looking at that long hair and lean bodies and I got excited, because, you know, I get excited by the sight of girls. But I guess you are boys. Too bad. I guess I’m stuck with these manly men. Yuck. Let’s get out of here; these guys are confusing my sexuality.”
That was the last straw for Cooper, who moved forward and tossed his slushy into Santana’s face. Santana barely flinched, almost expecting it. It hit too close to home for the rest of the glee club, who rushed up to surround her, staring down the hockey players, who didn’t look the least bit scared. Then, the football players menacingly walked forward, eyeing the hockey players, knocking their cups out of their hands.
Azimio stated, “I think somebody is forgetting which team is on top at this school.”
Cooper scoffed. “Yeah, you’re so on top, you need the glee geeks to protect you!”
“Football can protect itself!” the rotund blond football player called back. Strando, that’s his name! realized Santana through her brain freeze, that’s been bugging me for days. The boy named Strando lowered his voice invitingly. “But if you’re free on Saturday, which you are since hockey placed-what was it?-eighth in the league? You can come watch the real McKinley Titans both rock the field and rock the halftime show. You must feel so impotent.”
Cooper scowled again, turning to Karofsky. “So, this is what you left us for? Cleats and queers?”
Karofsky puffed up. “Hey, you guys kicked me off because my mom kept cutting off my mullet while I slept. You’re just pissed because my pounding abilities are being used on the grass instead of the ice. Maybe it’s why you guys sucked this year.”
“’Pounding’ ‘sucking.’ Sounds like you’ve gone homo already.”
Karofsky lurched forward, but was held by Azimio and Strando, who each grabbed an arm to prevent him from caving in Cooper’s skull. Azimio told him, “Don’t do it, man. We’d have your back and we’d leave them in a pile of dust, obviously, but let’s wait until after our game. I’m not worried about getting hurt. I just don’t want to be suspended for putting these rednecks in their place.”
The hockey team retreated, warily eyeing the large group that outnumbered them.
Strando declared to a chorus of laughter, “Now, can we finally go to the bathrooms and wash off this zombie makeup? My face itches like a hockey player’s girlfriend’s crotch.”
* * *
Santana’s decision to stand up to the hockey players had far-reaching effects that she wasn’t expecting.
Firstly, the football team didn’t balk at doing the halftime show number. Without the football players ditching glee, Beiste didn’t cut them from the team, and there was no need for the glee girls to step up and fill up the positions on the team. In addition, the football players seemed to have called a ceasefire on the club, perhaps out of a sense of camaraderie. They weren’t exactly greeting them warmly in the hallways, but a few glee clubbers were lucky enough to get a subtle head nod.
Santana was glad the girls wouldn’t have to fill in for the club. Zizes was the only one who could actually keep her own on the gridiron. Mercedes had some bulk but probably not a lot of strength. Tina and Rachel had neither. And the former cheerios had strength but no bulk. Against a division-leading football team, they’d be crushed like a handful of peaches and pretzel sticks. Then there was Kurt. Despite being star kicker the previous year, Santana couldn’t expect him to rejoin. The bullying, especially from Karofsky, had gotten bad and he probably shared no sympathy for the football team’s inability to win the conference championship. The team had barely squeezed a win the first time; they would have been dead in the water this time. Santana wondered whose stupid idea it was in the first place. Oh yeah, Wheezy and Man Hands.
Two more surprises awaited her, though.
One, Karofsky dropped glee. He made a deal with Coach Beiste, allowing him to keep his jacket in exchange for sitting out the champion games. Santana didn’t understand his motives, but it meant that Kurt felt safe enough to return to practice, so she was only too happy to have her friend back.
Two, Brittany dropped glee.
That’s how Santana found herself waiting outside the gym as Cheerios practice was ending. Most of the girls avoided her, her reputation preceding her. But Brittany stopped dead, meeting Santana’s hard eyes. “I thought you tore up your resignation letter.”
Brittany guiltily bowed her head. “I tore up the letter from the cannon. It was an accident, but since I still had my letter, I gave it to Mr. Schue after class. I’m staying on Cheerios. Coach… Mr. Schue’s Ex-Wife made me captain.”
“I know. I was there. You gave a very impressive pep talk to the rank and file.”
In reality, Brittany’s pep talk went like this: “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, robots and Smurfs… I, Brittany S. Pierce, am here to let you know that we will be winning Regionals this weekend. I prepared these inspirational words. ‘You can only give a cat a haircut one way.’ I can assure you that I’ve tried, and while it is hard, that lesson is true. ‘There’s no such thing as a boy parrot, except those who get special surgery.’ Remember: ‘Snow is just the feathers of baby angels’ and ‘gasoline is not the same as a gin and tonic’. I don’t want you to be afraid; Katy Perry’s hair is not naturally blue… but I cannot attest for her down-there garden. And finally, God is on our side. I know this because I am an amateur astrologer and there are definitely seven big stars on my ceiling-there were eight in the pack but my little sister ate one-and that’s definitely a sign that we’ll win our seventh championship. You can’t argue with that math like that the same way you can in Mr. Pinski’s class. So, hi-ho, Cheerios!”
There was a certain lack of applause.
Sue looked on unimpressed. “Great pick, Crazy Town. Your selection’s head is as empty as your womb.”
Terri defended herself. “The girls just need a figurehead. They’ve got their routines down. If we should the airhead out of the cannon, the trophy’s ours.”
“It better be. My Cheerios are winners.”
“Don’t you mean our Cheerios?” Sue didn’t respond.
Santana continued her interrogation, “You’re quitting glee? Why? You love glee.”
“Maybe I love Cheerios, too.”
“I had to drag you to auditions, telling you it was just gymnastics and dancing. You hate that I’m mean to people, and now you’ll be expected to be the meanest bitch of all. Why would you stay?”
“To protect you!” Brittany admitted, “Quinn left, so it’s up to me to keep the other Cheerios from being mean to you.”
Santana was stunned into silence. “You’re amazing, you know that? I don’t deserve you. But neither does Sue. Tell me you didn’t sign the release.”
“I don’t remember doing it, but Sue showed me my signature.”
“She forged it. If you don’t drop Cheerios, they’re putting you in that cannon. I can’t protect you if you don’t stick up for yourself.” With that she walked away, leaving Brittany pensive.
* * *
The night of the game finally arrived. The football team was doing well, winning 28 to 17 by halftime. Brittany still hadn’t shown up.
She walked right up to Finn as he got off the field. “I need your help. I can’t convince Brittany to quit Cheerios. Sue’s gonna fire her out of a cannon.”
“I don’t know what I can do.”
“I’ll help,” Sam offered, walking up, “quitting Cheerios was the smartest thing Quinn’s ever done. She skips one practice and she’s actually nice for an hour straight.”
Seeing this, Finn added, “I’m in.”
“Great, let’s go. Marching band only has the field to themselves for fifteen minutes, and I’m not missing out on a solo.”
They started walking, only to be joined by Quinn. “Where are you going?”
“I’m getting B back.”
“Not without me, you’re not. This hero complex doesn’t mesh well with your bitch complex.”
Kurt ran up. “Where are we going? I had Blaine drive down from Westerville to watch our performance. Tell me we’re not skipping it.”
“You’re gonna get to show off to your Snuggly Bear. I gotta get my girl first.”
“Fine. But did you have to wait until the last minute? Why didn’t you just sabotage the cannon?”
“You don’t think I didn’t consider that. It’d be like cutting the brake line to get someone to stop driving.”
Soon, the rest of the club joined them. Out in the parking lot, Brittany was staring at the cannon fearfully when the group of eleven arrived.
“Brittany,” Santana called, “we need to get you in costume and makeup for the halftime performance.”
“Santana, I told you. I’m staying in Cheerios.”
“You’re an idiot.” Brittany turned around, her face a mix of anger and sadness. Santana continued, “I don’t care what you’re reasons are, or how noble. I’m not going on that field to perform unless you’re there with me, and neither are any of these guys.” There was a chorus of agreements, the loudest being Artie. Way to contribute, Boyfriend of the Year.
“Without me, the Cheerios will lose Regionals.”
“Without you, New Directions will lose our Regionals. And it will be all your fault that we don’t go to New York and we’ll all be very sad. Now, tell me honestly, which team do you care more about? Who do you want to be with?”
Before she could answer, Coach Sylvester walked up. “Brittany, get on the bus, you’ve got no time for an orgy.”
Brittany looked Santana in the eye, “Sorry, Coach, but you know what they say about turtles with no sunglasses.” Sue apparently did not know. “I wish you the best of luck without me.”
Sue actually began to tremble. “Y-you can’t do this to me, Brittany! We’re sunk without you. Sandbags was completely expendable.” Santana rolled her eyes. “Losing Q was hard, but we’ll manage, but only if we have you and the cannon stunt! I have no performance without you!”
“Sucks for you,” Brittany replied, “Let’s go. If I’m gonna be dead, I’d rather be a sexy dead vampire.”
“Zombie,” Tina corrected.
Terri walked up at that moment. “Where’s Brittany going? Wheels are up in five minutes.”
“We lost her to your curly-haired ex-hubby’s musical train wreck. Your Cheerios have a Regionals to win with no prize-winning stunt, and you’ve lost two captains in as many days. Good luck with that.”
“They’re our Cheerios.”
“Sorry, Bum Ovaries, as principal of William McKinley High School, I have an obligation to see my Titans win the conference championship. Consider yourself promoted.”
Terri turned to see Becky Jackson watching Sue leave. “Becky, you’re head Cheerio.”
“Thanks, Coach Delmonico. But I’m going to have to quit while I’m on top. Mrs. Sylvester said she always has a place for me as her private aide. But thanks for the honor! It’ll be going on my résumé.”
Terri turned to the squad, who was looking at her for direction. “The first person to raise their hand gets to be head cheerleader.”
Ten seconds later, twenty-two uniform-clad girls were punching, biting, and scratching each other in a large dog-pile.
* * *
It’s close to midnight and something evil’s lurking in the dark
Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart,
You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it
Heads will roll, heads will roll!
You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes
You’re paralyzed
Karofsky was waiting at the corner of the entrance ramp when the glee club and the Titans were racing off the field after their halftime performance. He grabbed Kurt, covering his mouth, and pulled him under the bleachers, only managing to keep hold of him for a few seconds before he struggled out of his arMs. Kurt tried calling out for help, but the roar of the crowd was too loud. He was paralyzed with fear as his eyes met Karofsky’s.
Chapter 14: This is Goodbye