Doing It Right (14/19)
Title: Doing It Right, Chapter 14: This Is Goodbye
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. Kurt’s issues with Karofsky come to a head, and Brittany and Artie try to find common ground.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Word Count: ~6100
Spoilers: 2x11 “The Sue Sylvester Shuffle” and 2x08 “Furt”
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 Chapter 13
Kurt was paralyzed with fear as Dave Karofsky pulled him underneath the bleachers.
Karofsky was on edge but not threatening. “Look, Hummel, I’m not gonna kill you. Since we’re obviously going to win the game, I’d really like to play in the championship round. It’d mean a lot to my dad.”
“W-w-why are you telling me this?”
“I’ve been benched until next year. But I figure if I make up that week in glee club, maybe Coach’ll reconsider. I don’t care if you pussy out and don’t show up, but if I see you there…” he muttered menacingly before his voice softened, “…you can consider our deal temporarily back on. You don’t talk to me. I don’t talk to you.”
Kurt’s nerves calmed considerably. “I saw you on the sidelines, watching us. You were dancing.”
“Was not!”
“Not all the way, no, but you were moving to the beat. You wanted to be out there. You think you’ll like glee.”
“Shut up.”
“Fine. Come to glee next week. I can’t promise you’ll be welcomed warmly. In fact, I can guarantee you won’t. But luckily for you, Mr. Schue is too understanding for his own good. He sees the good in people. Even when there isn’t any.”
“I’m gonna be in your faggy little glee club come Monday. I will happily harass you so much you’re afraid to come to your favorite activity.”
“I don’t get you, Karofsky. Why do you hate me so much? Quinn tells me you’re not part of her old Bible-thumper church. Is your dad some kind of horrible bigot?”
“Don’t talk about my dad! What about your dad? What’s his deal? Apple not fall far from the tree? He obviously has no problem with you. And didn’t he get married like last year to some haggy lady?”
Kurt didn’t let that go. “I had a mother, you idiot! And a beautiful one at that. Where do you think I came from, or have you been sleeping through biology class your entire life? She died of cancer when I was eight!” Karofsky jerked away at Kurt’s tone. “He married another beautiful woman, one who raised a very understanding boy named Finn Hudson all by herself. I pity you, Dave. Somehow both Finn and I turned out spectacularly despite having one parent each, but you’ve got two and they messed you up completely.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Dave screamed through gritted teeth.
“Then why do you hate me?!”
“I don’t hate you!”
“Then why throw drinks at me? Why push me into lockers? Why call me names? What could ever possess you to be such an absolute dick?!”
Karofsky grabbed Kurt’s face and pressed his lips against the smaller boy’s. Kurt just stumbled backwards with a nauseated look on his face. His wiped his lips with the back of his hand and spit into the dirt. With utter loathing, he stated, “A closet case. Seriously? That’s your excuse? I’ll have you know I was saving these lips for someone else. Someone who doesn’t hate himself. Someone who doesn’t look in the mirror and wish he was dead. Is that why you wanted to be on the field with us? So you could put on this zombie makeup and finally see yourself the way you wish you were? Goodbye, cruel world?”
“Screw you, Hummel.”
Kurt held up his hands defensively. “You’re right, Karofsky. That was uncalled for.” After a few second, he tried to relate, “I was in the same place you were a few years ago. I was ashamed of who I was. I thought my father would hate me if he found out. I thought my friends would abandon me.”
“My father will hate me. My friends will abandon me. And that’s why I’m not gay. I’m not. I didn’t just kiss you.”
“You did, Dave. And the sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did!”
“No, I didn’t!” He shoved Kurt backwards into the pebble-filled dirt. “I will kill you if you spread these lies!”
The next thing he knew, Karofsky was being slammed into the nearest concrete support by Burt Hummel. The area was soon swarmed by others: Carole Hummel, Will Schuester, Finn and the rest of New Directions.
“You did not just shove my boy to the ground and threaten to kill him, did you?”
Finn grabbed onto his stepfather’s arms. “Burt, don’t do this.”
“What the hell, Finn? You saw what he did to Kurt! Why aren’t you the one taking out this piece of trash?”
After being helped to his feet by Puck, Santana, and Mercedes, Kurt called out, “Dad, he’s right. Don’t do this. Finn has been protecting me, and he’s been smart about it. You can’t harm a student or you’ll be worse off than him.”
Burt pulled away, keeping his eyes focused on Karofsky, who was adjusting his varsity jacket.
Kurt explained, “We’ll take this to Principal Sylvester. He’s not worth our time. I just want to go home.” He turned his eyes to the rest of the club. “Thank you, everybody. I’m blessed to be surrounded by so many people who care.”
* * *
Artie was lying on his back on Brittany’s bed, his girlfriend on top of him, kissing. Brittany pulled back and he lifted his head to chase the lips. “What happened to Kurt tonight was really scary. Karofsky was really mean to him.”
Artie, not happy about the change in activity, replied calmly, “Yeah, it really sucks. Karofsky’s a total bastard. He needs to be in jail. Or the zoo.”
“I like the zoo. I wouldn’t want to go if Karofsky was there.”
After a long pause, Artie replied, “Yeah, me neither.”
Brittany leaned back down to start the kissing again, but pulled away again after a few seconds. “Do you think we should call him?”
“Do you have ADD?”
“I used to take medicine for that. But Brett McCauley bought it all from me. Should we call him now?”
“Brett?”
“Kurt.”
“Let’s wait until tomorrow. I think he’s probably got enough support already.”
Brittany frowned. “Aren’t you like one of his best friends?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, no. I mean, Mercedes, Tina, Kurt, and I; we used to be pretty tight, because we were the original glee kids.”
“What about Rachel?”
“Eh, we didn’t like her so much. Anyway, we were both close to the girls, but Kurt and I just didn’t share many interests outside music. Mercedes and him had clothes and shopping. And he and Tina had dancing. Most of his interests were… kind of…”
“…gay?”
“Yes, but like honestly gay, like fashion and gay culture.”
“I like fashion. And I think gay people are super-cool.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I support Kurt 110 percent, but all that stuff doesn’t interest me.”
“I’m bisexual. That doesn’t interest you?”
Artie leered humorously. “No, that interests me very much. Feel free to tell me any stories about girls you’ve had wild sex with,” he noted, half-kidding.
Brittany replied honestly, “It’s really only Santana,” she admitted quietly, “I’ve kissed most of the girls on the Cheerios and touched some of their boobs, but they were always drunk. They freaked out when I went under the skirt.”
“Actually, I’d rather not hear about you and Santana.”
“Why not? Most guys like those stories. Puck asks, like, every day.”
“Because… because Santana’s a lesbian. She could like fall in love with you.”
Brittany tilted her head, “So, I… could… fall in love with her, too. That’s what bisexual means, right?”
“You’re right, I know. I just… when I think of bisexual chicks, I think of Angelina Jolie or Megan Fox or Anna Paquin. They’re super-hot, but they’re all married to dudes. It’s just weird to think of them like in love with or married other women, like Ellen and Portia.” Seeing Brittany frowning, he asked, “Can we talk about something else? Or, not talk?”
“We’ll finish making out later. If this is a serious-business relationship, we should talk. Oprah said so. I mean, we only talked on the phone like once while I was at my opa and oma’s over Christmas and we only texted to say good-night.”
“You’re right, babe.” There was a long silence before Artie asked, “I don’t suppose you have a favorite video game?”
Brittany’s eyes lit up. “I used to like Farmville, but I kept killing all my crops faster than was supposed to be possible. I even got an award for it; they called me ‘The Pla-goo’. I think it’s, like, African for ‘farmer’ or something. I also play Animal Crossing with my little sister. Oh, and I love Dance Dance Revolution!”
“Uh… I’m not a fan of the first two and literally can’t play the last one.” He looked down at his legs. “But… dance! We both love dance. Why have we never talked about this before? What’s your favorite type of dance?”
“Hip-hop, I guess. I kind of like them all.”
“Well, have you studied Afrika Bambaataa or the Rock Steady Crew?”
“Uh, no. I don’t study dance. Dance isn’t like school.”
Artie slid off the bed and into his chair, and pulled his laptop out of his bag. “There are styles of hip-hop dancing, Brittany.” He pulled up YouTube on his web browser. “Here, this is the Rock Steady Crew performing. Most people call it ‘break-dancing’ but if you’re in the know, it’s actually ‘b-boying’.”
Brittany watched for all of five seconds before commenting, “Yeah, I’ve done all that before. I just never learned the names.”
Artie showed her another dozen clips of hip hop dancers, only for Brittany to reply plainly that she tried dances similar to all of them before at her dance classes or with Mike. “I don’t know why you care so much about who danced which moves and whatnot. Dance isn’t supposed to be like history, it’s about feelings and knowing your body and just letting it move to music.”
Artie frowned. “It’s not like I don’t understand where you’re coming from, Brittany, but there’s so much more to dance that just doing it. It’s like genealogy.”
“Is that the science of-?”
Artie didn’t waste a second. “Genies? No.” Brittany frowned. He passionately continued, “It’s like a big family. The ‘tango’ is the child of European ballroom dances and African slave dances. And today there’s a dozen sister dances of just the tango: the Argentine tango, the Uruguayan tango, the ballroom dango, the Tango Nuevo… there’s even the Finnish tango. That has nothing to do with ‘finishing’ a tango, by the way. It means it was developed in Finland.”
“Is that where mermaids are from?”
“Why do I bother? Am I boring you?”
Brittany nodded reluctantly. “I think it’s really cool that dance can be all nerdy for you. But school is hard for me and I don’t want to think of dance as more schoolwork.”
“In that case, I’ll just watch you dance. That’s fun. Anyway, we’re back to square one on conversation topics. Current events? I don’t suppose you read the newspaper?”
“Luann is dating a boy she likes but her best friend Bernice thinks they’re not spending enough time together.”
“How about movies?”
“I love movies! Funny movies about people falling in love or getting drunk are my favorite. Or maybe Disney cartoon movies. They always have funny animals. And they’re always love stories. It’s like the best of all four worlds. ”
“I find their plots tend to be shallow. It’s not really their fault; they’re based on common myths and fairy tales. And they’re directed towards children, so they tend to take away the harsh endings of many of the original stories. The morals are stripped away so that the prince can win the princess.”
“Mulan wasn’t a princess. She was like a ninja or something.”
Artie exposited, “Mulan was Tina’s favorite film for that reason exactly. She was a heroine, through and through. And so was her love interest. And their romance was a minor point near the end. She said that it was the first time that the woman won the heart of the man. I’m sorry; I’m talking about Tina, aren’t I?”
“I don’t care. Tina’s my friend. You two used to date. Are you saying you don’t like Disney movies?”
“No, no, I do; they’re just… not my favorite genre, and I don’t mean to disparage the films. They’re classics. Disney has always been on the cutting edge of animation. For Snow White, they eschewed the use of rotoscoping, showing that animation didn’t have to project naturalism, that cartoon characters could function on their own. Beauty and the Beast used computer animation to break out of the 2-D box, allowing them to mimic camerawork that until that time was impossible. And then Toy Story obviously set the bar almost impossibly high for full-feature computer animation.” Off Brittany’s dazed look, “I sound like a teacher, don’t I?”
Brittany just nodded. “I’m sorry, but I feel like you’re looking at the wrong things. Movies, and just Disney movies, they… they go together. You always have serious, brave people and funny people, and sometimes the people are animals. And sometimes the bad guys are really evil, but sometimes they’re just hurt and sad. And every movie just mixes things together in new ways, so that instead of always making a cake, you’ll sometimes make a lasagna.”
“For your Hollywood films, yes. A film is constrained only by the imagination of its director. I mean, German Expressionism brought us films that broke every rule about setting, mis-en-scene, pacing… I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
Brittany just nodded. “Can we go back to making out now?”
Artie wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. “Yeah, help me out of my chair, Supergirl.”
* * *
Sue motioned to the chair in front of the principal’s desk. “Have a seat, Handmaid’s Tale.”
Terri took a seat. “You wanted to see me?”
“So, how was Regionals?”
“We placed third, which I think is really good given-”
Sue cut her off. “Yeah, all I heard was ‘I’m a massive failure with lame excuses.’”
“Look, once the turnover calms down and the girls’ various bite wounds heal, we’ll be ready to take Nationals by storm next year. You left all your binders in your office and we’ll of course give you credit for the routines we do.”
“Your optimism is wholly unwarranted but absolutely delicious, so I’ll let you get back.”
“You called me into your office just to tell me that? Seems kind of needless.”
“When Sue Sylvester does something, it’s not needless!” Sue calmed herself down, straightening her three-piece pant suit composed of track suit fabric. “No, I came to alert you that both your salary and budget have been slashed 20 percent.”
“Why?!”
“You’re an utter failure. If not for the fact the school board has established a hiring freeze, you’d be out on your plump little ass.” Terri leaned in her seat and looked at her hips. “But, as an administrator, it’s my job to torment the weak, so I took that fraction of your budget and placed it where I knew it would hurt worse.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I didn’t think I was capable of such insanity myself, but Sue Sylvester never backs down from a challenge, even one she issues to herself. Oh, yes, I augmented glee club’s budget like you falsely augmented your midsection.”
“Okay, seriously, the infertility jokes are kind of wearing thin. Will seems to think I have many more glaring flaws.”
“You’re excused.”
“Bye,” Terri groaned, fumbling out of her chair.
* * *
Santana once again found herself dragging Karofsky into an empty classroom. “You know, Karofsky, I thought we had a deal that you were going to lay off Kurt.”
“He broke our deal, not me.”
“I seem to recall we had a different deal.”
“So? I slushied the twink a month ago and you didn’t do nothing.”
“So your defense is that I waited to accuse you of rape. ‘Cause that never happens.”
“I seem to recall a little secret of yours coming out.”
“I’m gay. How ‘bout we all say it?” Karofsky’s eyes shot open. “Oh, yeah, Kurt told me. I’m willing to keep it a secret, for now.”
“I’m tired of you threatening me!”
“Well, I’m tired of you acting like a four-year-old on the playground pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes. Except we’re not on the playground, are we? And what you’re doing isn’t teasing, it’s torture.”
“I’m not afraid to hit a girl.”
“Why would you be? You think you’re a man?” Karofsky stalked forward. “That wasn’t a gay joke, but, yes, beat me up. Not only will that corroborate my story, but it’ll give you an actual crime you’ve committed if I drop the rape charges. And since someone repeated the fifth grade, I think someone won’t even get the privilege of being tried in juvenile court, will he? What’s the jail time for a hate crime these days?”
Karofsky smiled evilly. “You’re getting your stories mixed up, or are you? Are we talking about me shoving gay Hummel? That’s minor. Or are we talking about allegedly raping your lesbian ass? Or, is your plan to out me?”
“My plan is multiple choice.”
“Fine, pick one. Either I pushed a kid who happened to be gay down, and I get a slightly harder slap on the wrist. Or a lesbian claims I’m gay. Or a lesbian claims that I raped her. I don’t see either of those last two accusations sticking in this town.”
Santana’s face dropped. “You willing to risk that?”
“Yes.” And then he walked out.
* * *
After interviewing everyone in the glee club, Sue called a meeting between the Hummels and the Karofskys. Kurt came with Burt and Carole. Dave brought his father and a lawyer.
The lawyer explained, “My client experienced what is commonly known as a ‘gay panic’.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Kurt cried, “That’s the defense you use to try to get away with hate crimes. It’s appropriate and it doesn’t work anymore.”
“A ‘gay panic’ is the reaction to an encounter that could be considered paramount to sexual harassment. My client felt unwanted attention from this boy.”
“Unwanted?” Kurt laughed. Karofsky sneered at him, so Kurt pulled up. “I’m not the one who ripped open another boy’s pants.”
“Are you claiming that my client is gay? That’s slander. The Karofskys could sue.”
Burt put his hand on Kurt’s leg. Kurt shoved it off. “I rescind the comment. It was made in jest, obviously. I can’t say the same about Karofsky threatening to kill me. There are witnesses.”
Sue piped in, “I have fourteen willing to swear an oath to such.”
“My client has something to say concerning those charges.”
Dave next words were rehearsed. “I didn’t mean my threat. I was angry at the time and I apologize for both my words and my actions.”
Burt cried out, “You can’t believe that.”
Sue quieted him down. “I’m sorry, Burt, but whether I believe his apology is sincere or not, officially Mr. Karofsky has shown remorse, and without a consistent pattern of threats, I can’t legally claim that he is a danger to your son, and therefore I have no grounds for expulsion.”
Kurt screamed, “He still attacked me.”
Burt jumped in, pointing, “You can’t deny THAT!”
Sue smiled. “I cannot. Since this is not his first incident, he will receive a two-week suspension. Coach Beiste has also suspended him from the football team. The other coaches have made similar claims that he will be unable to join any other athletic team until next year. And only if his behavior is impeccable for the rest of the semester.”
“That’s a slap on the wrist,” claimed Carole.
“It’s much more than that, ma’am,” the Karofskys’ lawyer explained, “David’s record will show this offense for the rest of his high school career. Any football recruiters will be able to see that he did not participate in any qualifying championship matches, which will hurt his chances for athletic scholarships after high school. David’s grades have been falling as of late, and it will become difficult for him to get into a college. The Karofskys are not as well-off as yourselves.”
“Don’t give me that wealth privilege line. We’re hardly rich. I work eighty-hour weeks to keep my garage in the black in a down economy. I still find this ruling unfair.”
Sue turned to Burt. “I assure you that I have Kurt’s best interests at heart. Understand that your son will be safe for the rest of the year. One incident, no matter how minor, will get constitute a pattern of violent behavior and will get Mr. Karofsky expelled tout de suite, so I expect if he has one functioning brain cell left in that football-damaged noggin of his, he will steer clear of your son from now on, unless he’s looking to say sayonara to McKinley. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Kurt, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel. I have to speak with Dave and his family and his representation alone concerning his punishment. This is one area where they law is on his side. He gets privacy.”
Once outside his office, Burt turned to Carole, who nodded at his unspoken request. “Listen, Kurt, one more incident is two too many. There’s something wrong with that boy and I don’t want you within ten miles of him. You mentioned that private school in Westerville that your new friend goes to?”
“Dalton Academy.”
“Yeah. I know it’s expensive, but I’m willing to send you there as long as you need. We’ll find the money. Had we known this was going to happen, your mother and I would have postponed our honeymoon.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. Listen, I have an idea. Blaine told me there was a way around the financial issue, at least for the short-term. If a student has been displaced from a school for any reason; there’s a reduced rate to attend Dalton as a correspondence student for up to three months.”
“How does that help?”
“It’s usually reserved for schools where there has been some sort of disaster or there’s an emergency where the student’s family has to move, but there’s a loophole.”
“Loophole?” Carole asked.
Twenty minutes later, Kurt was standing before Principal Sylvester again. He plainly declared, “Principal Sylvester, you’re a mediocre cheerleading coach.”
Sue regally replied, “I hereby declare you, Kurt Hummel, expelled for gross insubordination. You may provide me with a written apology within the next 90 days and the charges will be dropped and your record expunged. Enjoy Dalton Academy, Gelfling. Godspeed and I hope to see you soon.”
* * *
Kurt walked into the choir room, wearing an ensemble of black clothing.
“Whoa, did someone die?” Mercedes asked.
“This is my mourning wear, Mercedes,” Kurt explained.
“Wait, am I not supposed to be here yet?” Brittany looked at her watch, and then showed it to Artie. “I don’t know what this says.”
“It says your watch is on upside-down. And out of batteries.”
“And your sister’s,” Santana added, admiring the Powerpuff Girls on the face.
Kurt cleared his throat. “Fellow New Directions members, this is goodbye. Due to the recent threats against me by one Dave Karofsky, I have decided to take a temporarily sabbatical from McKinley High. I’ll be attending Dalton Academy for the next few weeks.”
There was a chorus of surprised reactions.
“Did you know about this?” accused Rachel to Finn.
“Yeah,” Finn replied, “we had a family meeting about it last night. We have to start shopping at Sam’s Club again, but I’m cool with it. My mom’s like an artist when it comes to Ramen noodles. Kurt wanted to tell everyone in person.”
“Will you be back for Regionals, Kurt?” Mr. Schue asked, “You’ve been gunning for a solo for weeks.”
“I don’t know. I hope so, but I can’t guarantee it. Regionals is in two months and I could be gone for as long as three. I will be joining the Warblers while I’m there, to keep my voice strong.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the only reason,” Santana quipped. Kurt frowned at her, but it turned into a cocky smile, which was eagerly returned by the Latina, who added a cat claw gesture.
Kurt continued, “And since they’re out of the competition, feel free to pass along your ideas for our set list. I’ll keep a wide selection of songs in my back pocket, and if I return with sufficient time for rehearsal, I’ll happily perform a number for Regionals.”
“Of course,” Mr. Schue agreed.
“We’ll do more than that,” Rachel chimed in, “I will send you videos of me singing every song we consider.”
“Aw,” Kurt replied, genuinely touched, “that would be great! I’ll totally pretend you have no ulterior motives!”
“You’re the best, Kurt!”
Mike added, “Brittany and I will record all the choreography for you, too.”
Brittany offered, “Artie will film it. He likes filming things. Maybe you can do it the Georgian elitism style you keep talking about.”
“German expressionism?” Tina muttered, hardly aware of herself. She smiled sheepishly at Artie, then at Mike, and finally to Brittany.
Santana sat back in her seat. Well, it looks like this operation was a failure. I guess in the meantime I might be able to work on Karofsky, getting his double-wide ass out of the closet, or find him some new beaten-down demographic to terrorize.
“I do have one request,” Kurt asked. Mr. Schue nodded. “This week’s assignment will not be about saying farewell to me, or about how much you’ll miss me, or whatever. Your assignment will be to start picking kick-ass songs that will whoop our competition at Regionals.”
“I think we can manage that.”
“Actually, one more thing. Could I borrow Quinn and Mercedes for about five minutes?”
Without receiving permission, Quinn and Mercedes jumped from their seats, and followed Kurt just outside the door, where he began talking to them in a serious tone. To distract the rest of the class from watching, Mr. Schue called on the group to start throwing out ideas for Regionals.
Rachel was still listing solos she could sing when the trio returned to the room. Kurt remained active in the brainstorming process throughout rehearsal. Santana, as usual, remained silent. As Santana was leaving at the end of practice, Kurt’s eyes followed her. He asked Mr. Schue if he was staying for a little while, and after confirming that he was, he grabbed Santana on the way out.
“Zorra, can we talk?”
“You bet. Is this about how I screwed up?”
“You didn’t do anything but go above and beyond the call of friendship. I’m pretty sure you committed a felony for me.”
“If Karofsky can get away with threatening to kill you in front of a dozen witnesses by saying he’s sorry, I wouldn’t be too worried about hearsay against a pretty 16-year-old girl threatening to claim rape, in private. If I were white, the only thing I’d have to worry about is being offered an interview by Katie Couric.”
“Are you still getting slushied?”
“Once the first week back to school. The bullies have been laying low since Karofsky’s discipline hearing. Plus, I think the football team kind of likes us now. It’s not gonna last long, but we’ll take the reprieve while we have it.”
“Do you think I’m a coward? For running away?”
“When I was seven, my dad decided to do a three-month trip to Guatemala with Doctors Without Borders. My mom didn’t want the family to be apart for so long, so we went with him over summer break. I hated it. Anyway, the politics there were supposed to be reasonably stable, but some corrupt election or something happened, you know how these things go, and a bunch of riots broke out. So, less than two months in, my dad packed us up and we got out of dodge. We later found out that the clinic he was working at suffered almost no damage. Nobody there was hurt. We would have been perfectly fine as long as we stayed inside. My dad doesn’t regret for a second getting us out of there. It wasn’t worth the risk, he said.”
“I get what you’re saying.”
Pointedly, Santana declared, “You’re singing with us at Regionals. You can make out with your boy toy in your own time. Glee club will take care of Karofsky.”
“Just don’t get yourself suspended.”
“Stipulation refused. We need you. You owe Ms. Holliday a solo.” Her eyes brightened. “Oh, you didn’t think I noticed, did you?” She grabbed him in a hug. When a passing student looked on with curiosity, Santana lamented the total annihilation of her “rep”.
* * *
Sue picked up her phone. “Hello, General Motors? This is Sue Sylvester. I need to speak with Dan Akerson. What do you mean, do I have an appointment? Did you not hear who I was? Sue Sylvester! I happen to know you’re owned by the U.S. government, and I am an honorary diplomat to the State of Myanmar. If I can’t talk to your CEO, I demand the names and numbers of every person on your board of directors! Hello?” She frowned. “Adios.”
Forty-five minutes later, Sue was slouched on her desk. “Hello, is this Joe Malarky of Malarky GMC Buick of Lima?” She sat up straight. “It is? Well, Joey-Can I call you Joey? No?-You see, Joey, I’ve got a very talented group of singers at my school? Yes, McKinley? You’ve heard of them? That’s odd. You have a daughter on the JV Cheerios? Excellent. She likes the new coach better? Well, that’s just super. I’m sure she’ll enjoy a long career with the squad.” Sue scribbled a note in her journal. “Anyway, they’re a talented bunch of rascals and they’d just love to do a commercial for your dealership. Oh, no, don’t worry about paying them. I’m sure they’ll take merchandise in lieu. Oh, yeah, doesn’t have to be new. Anything off the pre-owned lot that’s been sitting there for twelve years. That’d be… super. Ciao.”
Sue sprinted down the choir room and entered without fanfare.
“Sue, can I-?”
Sue unabashedly cut him off, “Have a seat. I’m your boss.” Will rolled his eyes and complied. Becky scrambled in after her, holding a glossy poster rolled up.
“New Directions, I have an announcement for you. Completely unsolicited, the Malarky GMC dealership in town has asked, nay, begged for your little glee club to do a commercial for them. And that’s not the best part!” She turned to Becky, who looked up and smiled.
“Oh!” Becky replied, unrolling the advertising poster, revealing a picture of the sales lot with the Cheerios seated on several cars above a yearly calendar. Front and center were Quinn, Santana, and Brittany, but their faces had been vandalized with sharpies.
“You’ll each be receiving the vehicle of your choice.”
The club burst into hysterics. Santana was shrieking in her seat, shaking and weeping. Brittany poked her face repeatedly. Puck started pumping his fists the air, which let to some sort of improvised karate routine. Rachel was prancing around the room, her arms extended, singing to music only she could hear.
See the U.S.A.
In your Chevrolet
“That goes for you, Orphan Annie,” Sue remarked, “I’ve already called a tow truck to dispose of that jalopy you drag to school every morning, bringing down our property values. I suggest something with a high ceiling as not to mess up your impeccable hair.”
“Sue, you know we went through all this last year with the mattress place.”
Rachel stopped spinning on the piano, apparently waking from the daydream long after the rest of the club had turned their attention back to the front of the room. “Won’t appearing a commercial revoke our amateur status and making us ineligible for glee competitions?”
Sue heatedly cursed, “A pox on all of you.” She and Becky turned tail and left.
“Are you guys going to blame this on me somehow?” Rachel asked.
“Well, we are teenagers,” Puck pointed out, “and my mom’s still pissed at me ‘cause her Volvo still smells like a Philly Cheese sandwich since she got it back from the impound. I could have replaced it for her.”
“Santa didn’t bring my little sister for Christmas,” Brittany added.
* * *
Santana had been carefully watching Finn and Quinn for the past week, looking for any signs that they were starting an illicit relationship, but instead was treated to way too many make-out sessions with their designated significant others. She finally concluded that there was no chance of their reunion. Finn was still happily with Rachel, and so he had no broken heart willing to stray. Quinn had no special adoration of Finn, because he hadn’t been the one to play hero and get her to quit the Cheerios (and make those eyes at her).
Best of all, it seemed Brittany and Artie’s relationship was growing rockier. Santana had been dressing up each day in short skirts and tight jeans and tighter shirts. One Wednesday, she’d even worn a demi-cup bra under her tank, letting the cold weather leave particular indentions in her top, and Brittany was so flummoxed after they met up at their lockers that she forgot to go to her first period class. Santana also playfully flirted with Brittany constantly, nothing any more overt than when they were still best friends with benefits. Brittany reacted accordingly, sitting restlessly in her seat and making frequent trips to the bathrooms. Her hands were always mindlessly rubbing her arms and thighs, and pretty soon those hands started reaching out for Santana’s hips or shoulders. Santana would playfully smack her hand away each time, saying she was worse than the boys.
She assumed the dam had finally burst when Brittany shoved her into Ms. Castle’s empty classroom. (It was often empty because the school only had need for two periods of astronomy, and as badminton coach, she taught the senior blow-off classes in other wings.) Brittany laid the sweetest, most intense kiss that Santana had ever experienced, thought she had to admit she’d been deprived of them for some time.
Santana pushed her away softly. “As nice as that was, Brittany, we can’t be together while you’re still with Artie.” She trailed a finger down Brittany’s arm, pouting with her maximum-strength bedroom eyes.
Resolutely, Brittany explained, “It was a good-bye kiss. You were right, Santana. I have to treat Artie right.”
Santana was sure her heart had just beat so hard it had burst right through her chest.
Brittany was still talking. “…and that means I can’t think about you all the time.”
And suddenly there was a spark of hope. “‘All the time’?” Santana teased.
“I’m serious. It hurts to be around you, because I want so bad to get our lady-kisses on, and then I feel worse for thinking that because it’s like I’m cheating on Artie in my head. He’s a nice guy, Santana; I can’t do this to him.”
Santana chose her words carefully. “Brittany, you’re not doing anything to him. You’re like everybody else in the world. You see a hot guy or a pretty girl and your body reacts. It’s natural. As long as you’re not, like, in love with me, Artie will understand. If not, you know what to do.”
Had Santana not been watching Brittany’s face so intently, she would have missed the momentarily fear that flashed across it. “You think I should tell him?”
“If it’s weighing down on you, it might help to confess what you’re feeling. You two can work it out from there.” It was a risky gamble, but Santana would prefer a volatile relationship over a serene one.
Brittany rambled, “Okay. Listen, can we take a break? I mean, not like that, I just… can I be the one who says when we hang out? I need some space, but I don’t want to, like, not be friends-this isn’t goodbye-I just… I’m confused.”
“I’m here for you, always. If it seems like I’m tempting you, I’m sorry.” She left out the confession of her intentions in her apology. “Follow your heart,” she instructed, placing her hand on Brittany’s breast.
Brittany pulled away from the hand, but didn’t give Santana an accusing glare. She smiled weakly and gave a mumbled “thanks” before racing out of the room with saying goodbye.
So, it looks like the battle for Brittany’s heart has officially begun. Legless McGeek doesn’t even realize he should be fighting. Advantage: Santana Lopez. As Santana stared up at the planet models hanging from the ceiling, she thought about gravity.
Author’s Note: And I’m not so naïve to think none of you would notice I ripped off the Chevy commercial. I kind of split this episode unevenly, so even though I had a lot of original material to work with, the last chapter was much longer than this one, and I needed to bridge some plot holes anyway. I thought this chapter could use some levity, too.
Chapter 15: But I Can’t Help It
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. Kurt’s issues with Karofsky come to a head, and Brittany and Artie try to find common ground.
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Word Count: ~6100
Spoilers: 2x11 “The Sue Sylvester Shuffle” and 2x08 “Furt”
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 Chapter 13
Kurt was paralyzed with fear as Dave Karofsky pulled him underneath the bleachers.
Karofsky was on edge but not threatening. “Look, Hummel, I’m not gonna kill you. Since we’re obviously going to win the game, I’d really like to play in the championship round. It’d mean a lot to my dad.”
“W-w-why are you telling me this?”
“I’ve been benched until next year. But I figure if I make up that week in glee club, maybe Coach’ll reconsider. I don’t care if you pussy out and don’t show up, but if I see you there…” he muttered menacingly before his voice softened, “…you can consider our deal temporarily back on. You don’t talk to me. I don’t talk to you.”
Kurt’s nerves calmed considerably. “I saw you on the sidelines, watching us. You were dancing.”
“Was not!”
“Not all the way, no, but you were moving to the beat. You wanted to be out there. You think you’ll like glee.”
“Shut up.”
“Fine. Come to glee next week. I can’t promise you’ll be welcomed warmly. In fact, I can guarantee you won’t. But luckily for you, Mr. Schue is too understanding for his own good. He sees the good in people. Even when there isn’t any.”
“I’m gonna be in your faggy little glee club come Monday. I will happily harass you so much you’re afraid to come to your favorite activity.”
“I don’t get you, Karofsky. Why do you hate me so much? Quinn tells me you’re not part of her old Bible-thumper church. Is your dad some kind of horrible bigot?”
“Don’t talk about my dad! What about your dad? What’s his deal? Apple not fall far from the tree? He obviously has no problem with you. And didn’t he get married like last year to some haggy lady?”
Kurt didn’t let that go. “I had a mother, you idiot! And a beautiful one at that. Where do you think I came from, or have you been sleeping through biology class your entire life? She died of cancer when I was eight!” Karofsky jerked away at Kurt’s tone. “He married another beautiful woman, one who raised a very understanding boy named Finn Hudson all by herself. I pity you, Dave. Somehow both Finn and I turned out spectacularly despite having one parent each, but you’ve got two and they messed you up completely.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Dave screamed through gritted teeth.
“Then why do you hate me?!”
“I don’t hate you!”
“Then why throw drinks at me? Why push me into lockers? Why call me names? What could ever possess you to be such an absolute dick?!”
Karofsky grabbed Kurt’s face and pressed his lips against the smaller boy’s. Kurt just stumbled backwards with a nauseated look on his face. His wiped his lips with the back of his hand and spit into the dirt. With utter loathing, he stated, “A closet case. Seriously? That’s your excuse? I’ll have you know I was saving these lips for someone else. Someone who doesn’t hate himself. Someone who doesn’t look in the mirror and wish he was dead. Is that why you wanted to be on the field with us? So you could put on this zombie makeup and finally see yourself the way you wish you were? Goodbye, cruel world?”
“Screw you, Hummel.”
Kurt held up his hands defensively. “You’re right, Karofsky. That was uncalled for.” After a few second, he tried to relate, “I was in the same place you were a few years ago. I was ashamed of who I was. I thought my father would hate me if he found out. I thought my friends would abandon me.”
“My father will hate me. My friends will abandon me. And that’s why I’m not gay. I’m not. I didn’t just kiss you.”
“You did, Dave. And the sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did!”
“No, I didn’t!” He shoved Kurt backwards into the pebble-filled dirt. “I will kill you if you spread these lies!”
The next thing he knew, Karofsky was being slammed into the nearest concrete support by Burt Hummel. The area was soon swarmed by others: Carole Hummel, Will Schuester, Finn and the rest of New Directions.
“You did not just shove my boy to the ground and threaten to kill him, did you?”
Finn grabbed onto his stepfather’s arms. “Burt, don’t do this.”
“What the hell, Finn? You saw what he did to Kurt! Why aren’t you the one taking out this piece of trash?”
After being helped to his feet by Puck, Santana, and Mercedes, Kurt called out, “Dad, he’s right. Don’t do this. Finn has been protecting me, and he’s been smart about it. You can’t harm a student or you’ll be worse off than him.”
Burt pulled away, keeping his eyes focused on Karofsky, who was adjusting his varsity jacket.
Kurt explained, “We’ll take this to Principal Sylvester. He’s not worth our time. I just want to go home.” He turned his eyes to the rest of the club. “Thank you, everybody. I’m blessed to be surrounded by so many people who care.”
* * *
Artie was lying on his back on Brittany’s bed, his girlfriend on top of him, kissing. Brittany pulled back and he lifted his head to chase the lips. “What happened to Kurt tonight was really scary. Karofsky was really mean to him.”
Artie, not happy about the change in activity, replied calmly, “Yeah, it really sucks. Karofsky’s a total bastard. He needs to be in jail. Or the zoo.”
“I like the zoo. I wouldn’t want to go if Karofsky was there.”
After a long pause, Artie replied, “Yeah, me neither.”
Brittany leaned back down to start the kissing again, but pulled away again after a few seconds. “Do you think we should call him?”
“Do you have ADD?”
“I used to take medicine for that. But Brett McCauley bought it all from me. Should we call him now?”
“Brett?”
“Kurt.”
“Let’s wait until tomorrow. I think he’s probably got enough support already.”
Brittany frowned. “Aren’t you like one of his best friends?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, no. I mean, Mercedes, Tina, Kurt, and I; we used to be pretty tight, because we were the original glee kids.”
“What about Rachel?”
“Eh, we didn’t like her so much. Anyway, we were both close to the girls, but Kurt and I just didn’t share many interests outside music. Mercedes and him had clothes and shopping. And he and Tina had dancing. Most of his interests were… kind of…”
“…gay?”
“Yes, but like honestly gay, like fashion and gay culture.”
“I like fashion. And I think gay people are super-cool.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I support Kurt 110 percent, but all that stuff doesn’t interest me.”
“I’m bisexual. That doesn’t interest you?”
Artie leered humorously. “No, that interests me very much. Feel free to tell me any stories about girls you’ve had wild sex with,” he noted, half-kidding.
Brittany replied honestly, “It’s really only Santana,” she admitted quietly, “I’ve kissed most of the girls on the Cheerios and touched some of their boobs, but they were always drunk. They freaked out when I went under the skirt.”
“Actually, I’d rather not hear about you and Santana.”
“Why not? Most guys like those stories. Puck asks, like, every day.”
“Because… because Santana’s a lesbian. She could like fall in love with you.”
Brittany tilted her head, “So, I… could… fall in love with her, too. That’s what bisexual means, right?”
“You’re right, I know. I just… when I think of bisexual chicks, I think of Angelina Jolie or Megan Fox or Anna Paquin. They’re super-hot, but they’re all married to dudes. It’s just weird to think of them like in love with or married other women, like Ellen and Portia.” Seeing Brittany frowning, he asked, “Can we talk about something else? Or, not talk?”
“We’ll finish making out later. If this is a serious-business relationship, we should talk. Oprah said so. I mean, we only talked on the phone like once while I was at my opa and oma’s over Christmas and we only texted to say good-night.”
“You’re right, babe.” There was a long silence before Artie asked, “I don’t suppose you have a favorite video game?”
Brittany’s eyes lit up. “I used to like Farmville, but I kept killing all my crops faster than was supposed to be possible. I even got an award for it; they called me ‘The Pla-goo’. I think it’s, like, African for ‘farmer’ or something. I also play Animal Crossing with my little sister. Oh, and I love Dance Dance Revolution!”
“Uh… I’m not a fan of the first two and literally can’t play the last one.” He looked down at his legs. “But… dance! We both love dance. Why have we never talked about this before? What’s your favorite type of dance?”
“Hip-hop, I guess. I kind of like them all.”
“Well, have you studied Afrika Bambaataa or the Rock Steady Crew?”
“Uh, no. I don’t study dance. Dance isn’t like school.”
Artie slid off the bed and into his chair, and pulled his laptop out of his bag. “There are styles of hip-hop dancing, Brittany.” He pulled up YouTube on his web browser. “Here, this is the Rock Steady Crew performing. Most people call it ‘break-dancing’ but if you’re in the know, it’s actually ‘b-boying’.”
Brittany watched for all of five seconds before commenting, “Yeah, I’ve done all that before. I just never learned the names.”
Artie showed her another dozen clips of hip hop dancers, only for Brittany to reply plainly that she tried dances similar to all of them before at her dance classes or with Mike. “I don’t know why you care so much about who danced which moves and whatnot. Dance isn’t supposed to be like history, it’s about feelings and knowing your body and just letting it move to music.”
Artie frowned. “It’s not like I don’t understand where you’re coming from, Brittany, but there’s so much more to dance that just doing it. It’s like genealogy.”
“Is that the science of-?”
Artie didn’t waste a second. “Genies? No.” Brittany frowned. He passionately continued, “It’s like a big family. The ‘tango’ is the child of European ballroom dances and African slave dances. And today there’s a dozen sister dances of just the tango: the Argentine tango, the Uruguayan tango, the ballroom dango, the Tango Nuevo… there’s even the Finnish tango. That has nothing to do with ‘finishing’ a tango, by the way. It means it was developed in Finland.”
“Is that where mermaids are from?”
“Why do I bother? Am I boring you?”
Brittany nodded reluctantly. “I think it’s really cool that dance can be all nerdy for you. But school is hard for me and I don’t want to think of dance as more schoolwork.”
“In that case, I’ll just watch you dance. That’s fun. Anyway, we’re back to square one on conversation topics. Current events? I don’t suppose you read the newspaper?”
“Luann is dating a boy she likes but her best friend Bernice thinks they’re not spending enough time together.”
“How about movies?”
“I love movies! Funny movies about people falling in love or getting drunk are my favorite. Or maybe Disney cartoon movies. They always have funny animals. And they’re always love stories. It’s like the best of all four worlds. ”
“I find their plots tend to be shallow. It’s not really their fault; they’re based on common myths and fairy tales. And they’re directed towards children, so they tend to take away the harsh endings of many of the original stories. The morals are stripped away so that the prince can win the princess.”
“Mulan wasn’t a princess. She was like a ninja or something.”
Artie exposited, “Mulan was Tina’s favorite film for that reason exactly. She was a heroine, through and through. And so was her love interest. And their romance was a minor point near the end. She said that it was the first time that the woman won the heart of the man. I’m sorry; I’m talking about Tina, aren’t I?”
“I don’t care. Tina’s my friend. You two used to date. Are you saying you don’t like Disney movies?”
“No, no, I do; they’re just… not my favorite genre, and I don’t mean to disparage the films. They’re classics. Disney has always been on the cutting edge of animation. For Snow White, they eschewed the use of rotoscoping, showing that animation didn’t have to project naturalism, that cartoon characters could function on their own. Beauty and the Beast used computer animation to break out of the 2-D box, allowing them to mimic camerawork that until that time was impossible. And then Toy Story obviously set the bar almost impossibly high for full-feature computer animation.” Off Brittany’s dazed look, “I sound like a teacher, don’t I?”
Brittany just nodded. “I’m sorry, but I feel like you’re looking at the wrong things. Movies, and just Disney movies, they… they go together. You always have serious, brave people and funny people, and sometimes the people are animals. And sometimes the bad guys are really evil, but sometimes they’re just hurt and sad. And every movie just mixes things together in new ways, so that instead of always making a cake, you’ll sometimes make a lasagna.”
“For your Hollywood films, yes. A film is constrained only by the imagination of its director. I mean, German Expressionism brought us films that broke every rule about setting, mis-en-scene, pacing… I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
Brittany just nodded. “Can we go back to making out now?”
Artie wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. “Yeah, help me out of my chair, Supergirl.”
* * *
Sue motioned to the chair in front of the principal’s desk. “Have a seat, Handmaid’s Tale.”
Terri took a seat. “You wanted to see me?”
“So, how was Regionals?”
“We placed third, which I think is really good given-”
Sue cut her off. “Yeah, all I heard was ‘I’m a massive failure with lame excuses.’”
“Look, once the turnover calms down and the girls’ various bite wounds heal, we’ll be ready to take Nationals by storm next year. You left all your binders in your office and we’ll of course give you credit for the routines we do.”
“Your optimism is wholly unwarranted but absolutely delicious, so I’ll let you get back.”
“You called me into your office just to tell me that? Seems kind of needless.”
“When Sue Sylvester does something, it’s not needless!” Sue calmed herself down, straightening her three-piece pant suit composed of track suit fabric. “No, I came to alert you that both your salary and budget have been slashed 20 percent.”
“Why?!”
“You’re an utter failure. If not for the fact the school board has established a hiring freeze, you’d be out on your plump little ass.” Terri leaned in her seat and looked at her hips. “But, as an administrator, it’s my job to torment the weak, so I took that fraction of your budget and placed it where I knew it would hurt worse.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I didn’t think I was capable of such insanity myself, but Sue Sylvester never backs down from a challenge, even one she issues to herself. Oh, yes, I augmented glee club’s budget like you falsely augmented your midsection.”
“Okay, seriously, the infertility jokes are kind of wearing thin. Will seems to think I have many more glaring flaws.”
“You’re excused.”
“Bye,” Terri groaned, fumbling out of her chair.
* * *
Santana once again found herself dragging Karofsky into an empty classroom. “You know, Karofsky, I thought we had a deal that you were going to lay off Kurt.”
“He broke our deal, not me.”
“I seem to recall we had a different deal.”
“So? I slushied the twink a month ago and you didn’t do nothing.”
“So your defense is that I waited to accuse you of rape. ‘Cause that never happens.”
“I seem to recall a little secret of yours coming out.”
“I’m gay. How ‘bout we all say it?” Karofsky’s eyes shot open. “Oh, yeah, Kurt told me. I’m willing to keep it a secret, for now.”
“I’m tired of you threatening me!”
“Well, I’m tired of you acting like a four-year-old on the playground pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes. Except we’re not on the playground, are we? And what you’re doing isn’t teasing, it’s torture.”
“I’m not afraid to hit a girl.”
“Why would you be? You think you’re a man?” Karofsky stalked forward. “That wasn’t a gay joke, but, yes, beat me up. Not only will that corroborate my story, but it’ll give you an actual crime you’ve committed if I drop the rape charges. And since someone repeated the fifth grade, I think someone won’t even get the privilege of being tried in juvenile court, will he? What’s the jail time for a hate crime these days?”
Karofsky smiled evilly. “You’re getting your stories mixed up, or are you? Are we talking about me shoving gay Hummel? That’s minor. Or are we talking about allegedly raping your lesbian ass? Or, is your plan to out me?”
“My plan is multiple choice.”
“Fine, pick one. Either I pushed a kid who happened to be gay down, and I get a slightly harder slap on the wrist. Or a lesbian claims I’m gay. Or a lesbian claims that I raped her. I don’t see either of those last two accusations sticking in this town.”
Santana’s face dropped. “You willing to risk that?”
“Yes.” And then he walked out.
* * *
After interviewing everyone in the glee club, Sue called a meeting between the Hummels and the Karofskys. Kurt came with Burt and Carole. Dave brought his father and a lawyer.
The lawyer explained, “My client experienced what is commonly known as a ‘gay panic’.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Kurt cried, “That’s the defense you use to try to get away with hate crimes. It’s appropriate and it doesn’t work anymore.”
“A ‘gay panic’ is the reaction to an encounter that could be considered paramount to sexual harassment. My client felt unwanted attention from this boy.”
“Unwanted?” Kurt laughed. Karofsky sneered at him, so Kurt pulled up. “I’m not the one who ripped open another boy’s pants.”
“Are you claiming that my client is gay? That’s slander. The Karofskys could sue.”
Burt put his hand on Kurt’s leg. Kurt shoved it off. “I rescind the comment. It was made in jest, obviously. I can’t say the same about Karofsky threatening to kill me. There are witnesses.”
Sue piped in, “I have fourteen willing to swear an oath to such.”
“My client has something to say concerning those charges.”
Dave next words were rehearsed. “I didn’t mean my threat. I was angry at the time and I apologize for both my words and my actions.”
Burt cried out, “You can’t believe that.”
Sue quieted him down. “I’m sorry, Burt, but whether I believe his apology is sincere or not, officially Mr. Karofsky has shown remorse, and without a consistent pattern of threats, I can’t legally claim that he is a danger to your son, and therefore I have no grounds for expulsion.”
Kurt screamed, “He still attacked me.”
Burt jumped in, pointing, “You can’t deny THAT!”
Sue smiled. “I cannot. Since this is not his first incident, he will receive a two-week suspension. Coach Beiste has also suspended him from the football team. The other coaches have made similar claims that he will be unable to join any other athletic team until next year. And only if his behavior is impeccable for the rest of the semester.”
“That’s a slap on the wrist,” claimed Carole.
“It’s much more than that, ma’am,” the Karofskys’ lawyer explained, “David’s record will show this offense for the rest of his high school career. Any football recruiters will be able to see that he did not participate in any qualifying championship matches, which will hurt his chances for athletic scholarships after high school. David’s grades have been falling as of late, and it will become difficult for him to get into a college. The Karofskys are not as well-off as yourselves.”
“Don’t give me that wealth privilege line. We’re hardly rich. I work eighty-hour weeks to keep my garage in the black in a down economy. I still find this ruling unfair.”
Sue turned to Burt. “I assure you that I have Kurt’s best interests at heart. Understand that your son will be safe for the rest of the year. One incident, no matter how minor, will get constitute a pattern of violent behavior and will get Mr. Karofsky expelled tout de suite, so I expect if he has one functioning brain cell left in that football-damaged noggin of his, he will steer clear of your son from now on, unless he’s looking to say sayonara to McKinley. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Kurt, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel. I have to speak with Dave and his family and his representation alone concerning his punishment. This is one area where they law is on his side. He gets privacy.”
Once outside his office, Burt turned to Carole, who nodded at his unspoken request. “Listen, Kurt, one more incident is two too many. There’s something wrong with that boy and I don’t want you within ten miles of him. You mentioned that private school in Westerville that your new friend goes to?”
“Dalton Academy.”
“Yeah. I know it’s expensive, but I’m willing to send you there as long as you need. We’ll find the money. Had we known this was going to happen, your mother and I would have postponed our honeymoon.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. Listen, I have an idea. Blaine told me there was a way around the financial issue, at least for the short-term. If a student has been displaced from a school for any reason; there’s a reduced rate to attend Dalton as a correspondence student for up to three months.”
“How does that help?”
“It’s usually reserved for schools where there has been some sort of disaster or there’s an emergency where the student’s family has to move, but there’s a loophole.”
“Loophole?” Carole asked.
Twenty minutes later, Kurt was standing before Principal Sylvester again. He plainly declared, “Principal Sylvester, you’re a mediocre cheerleading coach.”
Sue regally replied, “I hereby declare you, Kurt Hummel, expelled for gross insubordination. You may provide me with a written apology within the next 90 days and the charges will be dropped and your record expunged. Enjoy Dalton Academy, Gelfling. Godspeed and I hope to see you soon.”
* * *
Kurt walked into the choir room, wearing an ensemble of black clothing.
“Whoa, did someone die?” Mercedes asked.
“This is my mourning wear, Mercedes,” Kurt explained.
“Wait, am I not supposed to be here yet?” Brittany looked at her watch, and then showed it to Artie. “I don’t know what this says.”
“It says your watch is on upside-down. And out of batteries.”
“And your sister’s,” Santana added, admiring the Powerpuff Girls on the face.
Kurt cleared his throat. “Fellow New Directions members, this is goodbye. Due to the recent threats against me by one Dave Karofsky, I have decided to take a temporarily sabbatical from McKinley High. I’ll be attending Dalton Academy for the next few weeks.”
There was a chorus of surprised reactions.
“Did you know about this?” accused Rachel to Finn.
“Yeah,” Finn replied, “we had a family meeting about it last night. We have to start shopping at Sam’s Club again, but I’m cool with it. My mom’s like an artist when it comes to Ramen noodles. Kurt wanted to tell everyone in person.”
“Will you be back for Regionals, Kurt?” Mr. Schue asked, “You’ve been gunning for a solo for weeks.”
“I don’t know. I hope so, but I can’t guarantee it. Regionals is in two months and I could be gone for as long as three. I will be joining the Warblers while I’m there, to keep my voice strong.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the only reason,” Santana quipped. Kurt frowned at her, but it turned into a cocky smile, which was eagerly returned by the Latina, who added a cat claw gesture.
Kurt continued, “And since they’re out of the competition, feel free to pass along your ideas for our set list. I’ll keep a wide selection of songs in my back pocket, and if I return with sufficient time for rehearsal, I’ll happily perform a number for Regionals.”
“Of course,” Mr. Schue agreed.
“We’ll do more than that,” Rachel chimed in, “I will send you videos of me singing every song we consider.”
“Aw,” Kurt replied, genuinely touched, “that would be great! I’ll totally pretend you have no ulterior motives!”
“You’re the best, Kurt!”
Mike added, “Brittany and I will record all the choreography for you, too.”
Brittany offered, “Artie will film it. He likes filming things. Maybe you can do it the Georgian elitism style you keep talking about.”
“German expressionism?” Tina muttered, hardly aware of herself. She smiled sheepishly at Artie, then at Mike, and finally to Brittany.
Santana sat back in her seat. Well, it looks like this operation was a failure. I guess in the meantime I might be able to work on Karofsky, getting his double-wide ass out of the closet, or find him some new beaten-down demographic to terrorize.
“I do have one request,” Kurt asked. Mr. Schue nodded. “This week’s assignment will not be about saying farewell to me, or about how much you’ll miss me, or whatever. Your assignment will be to start picking kick-ass songs that will whoop our competition at Regionals.”
“I think we can manage that.”
“Actually, one more thing. Could I borrow Quinn and Mercedes for about five minutes?”
Without receiving permission, Quinn and Mercedes jumped from their seats, and followed Kurt just outside the door, where he began talking to them in a serious tone. To distract the rest of the class from watching, Mr. Schue called on the group to start throwing out ideas for Regionals.
Rachel was still listing solos she could sing when the trio returned to the room. Kurt remained active in the brainstorming process throughout rehearsal. Santana, as usual, remained silent. As Santana was leaving at the end of practice, Kurt’s eyes followed her. He asked Mr. Schue if he was staying for a little while, and after confirming that he was, he grabbed Santana on the way out.
“Zorra, can we talk?”
“You bet. Is this about how I screwed up?”
“You didn’t do anything but go above and beyond the call of friendship. I’m pretty sure you committed a felony for me.”
“If Karofsky can get away with threatening to kill you in front of a dozen witnesses by saying he’s sorry, I wouldn’t be too worried about hearsay against a pretty 16-year-old girl threatening to claim rape, in private. If I were white, the only thing I’d have to worry about is being offered an interview by Katie Couric.”
“Are you still getting slushied?”
“Once the first week back to school. The bullies have been laying low since Karofsky’s discipline hearing. Plus, I think the football team kind of likes us now. It’s not gonna last long, but we’ll take the reprieve while we have it.”
“Do you think I’m a coward? For running away?”
“When I was seven, my dad decided to do a three-month trip to Guatemala with Doctors Without Borders. My mom didn’t want the family to be apart for so long, so we went with him over summer break. I hated it. Anyway, the politics there were supposed to be reasonably stable, but some corrupt election or something happened, you know how these things go, and a bunch of riots broke out. So, less than two months in, my dad packed us up and we got out of dodge. We later found out that the clinic he was working at suffered almost no damage. Nobody there was hurt. We would have been perfectly fine as long as we stayed inside. My dad doesn’t regret for a second getting us out of there. It wasn’t worth the risk, he said.”
“I get what you’re saying.”
Pointedly, Santana declared, “You’re singing with us at Regionals. You can make out with your boy toy in your own time. Glee club will take care of Karofsky.”
“Just don’t get yourself suspended.”
“Stipulation refused. We need you. You owe Ms. Holliday a solo.” Her eyes brightened. “Oh, you didn’t think I noticed, did you?” She grabbed him in a hug. When a passing student looked on with curiosity, Santana lamented the total annihilation of her “rep”.
* * *
Sue picked up her phone. “Hello, General Motors? This is Sue Sylvester. I need to speak with Dan Akerson. What do you mean, do I have an appointment? Did you not hear who I was? Sue Sylvester! I happen to know you’re owned by the U.S. government, and I am an honorary diplomat to the State of Myanmar. If I can’t talk to your CEO, I demand the names and numbers of every person on your board of directors! Hello?” She frowned. “Adios.”
Forty-five minutes later, Sue was slouched on her desk. “Hello, is this Joe Malarky of Malarky GMC Buick of Lima?” She sat up straight. “It is? Well, Joey-Can I call you Joey? No?-You see, Joey, I’ve got a very talented group of singers at my school? Yes, McKinley? You’ve heard of them? That’s odd. You have a daughter on the JV Cheerios? Excellent. She likes the new coach better? Well, that’s just super. I’m sure she’ll enjoy a long career with the squad.” Sue scribbled a note in her journal. “Anyway, they’re a talented bunch of rascals and they’d just love to do a commercial for your dealership. Oh, no, don’t worry about paying them. I’m sure they’ll take merchandise in lieu. Oh, yeah, doesn’t have to be new. Anything off the pre-owned lot that’s been sitting there for twelve years. That’d be… super. Ciao.”
Sue sprinted down the choir room and entered without fanfare.
“Sue, can I-?”
Sue unabashedly cut him off, “Have a seat. I’m your boss.” Will rolled his eyes and complied. Becky scrambled in after her, holding a glossy poster rolled up.
“New Directions, I have an announcement for you. Completely unsolicited, the Malarky GMC dealership in town has asked, nay, begged for your little glee club to do a commercial for them. And that’s not the best part!” She turned to Becky, who looked up and smiled.
“Oh!” Becky replied, unrolling the advertising poster, revealing a picture of the sales lot with the Cheerios seated on several cars above a yearly calendar. Front and center were Quinn, Santana, and Brittany, but their faces had been vandalized with sharpies.
“You’ll each be receiving the vehicle of your choice.”
The club burst into hysterics. Santana was shrieking in her seat, shaking and weeping. Brittany poked her face repeatedly. Puck started pumping his fists the air, which let to some sort of improvised karate routine. Rachel was prancing around the room, her arms extended, singing to music only she could hear.
See the U.S.A.
In your Chevrolet
“That goes for you, Orphan Annie,” Sue remarked, “I’ve already called a tow truck to dispose of that jalopy you drag to school every morning, bringing down our property values. I suggest something with a high ceiling as not to mess up your impeccable hair.”
“Sue, you know we went through all this last year with the mattress place.”
Rachel stopped spinning on the piano, apparently waking from the daydream long after the rest of the club had turned their attention back to the front of the room. “Won’t appearing a commercial revoke our amateur status and making us ineligible for glee competitions?”
Sue heatedly cursed, “A pox on all of you.” She and Becky turned tail and left.
“Are you guys going to blame this on me somehow?” Rachel asked.
“Well, we are teenagers,” Puck pointed out, “and my mom’s still pissed at me ‘cause her Volvo still smells like a Philly Cheese sandwich since she got it back from the impound. I could have replaced it for her.”
“Santa didn’t bring my little sister for Christmas,” Brittany added.
* * *
Santana had been carefully watching Finn and Quinn for the past week, looking for any signs that they were starting an illicit relationship, but instead was treated to way too many make-out sessions with their designated significant others. She finally concluded that there was no chance of their reunion. Finn was still happily with Rachel, and so he had no broken heart willing to stray. Quinn had no special adoration of Finn, because he hadn’t been the one to play hero and get her to quit the Cheerios (and make those eyes at her).
Best of all, it seemed Brittany and Artie’s relationship was growing rockier. Santana had been dressing up each day in short skirts and tight jeans and tighter shirts. One Wednesday, she’d even worn a demi-cup bra under her tank, letting the cold weather leave particular indentions in her top, and Brittany was so flummoxed after they met up at their lockers that she forgot to go to her first period class. Santana also playfully flirted with Brittany constantly, nothing any more overt than when they were still best friends with benefits. Brittany reacted accordingly, sitting restlessly in her seat and making frequent trips to the bathrooms. Her hands were always mindlessly rubbing her arms and thighs, and pretty soon those hands started reaching out for Santana’s hips or shoulders. Santana would playfully smack her hand away each time, saying she was worse than the boys.
She assumed the dam had finally burst when Brittany shoved her into Ms. Castle’s empty classroom. (It was often empty because the school only had need for two periods of astronomy, and as badminton coach, she taught the senior blow-off classes in other wings.) Brittany laid the sweetest, most intense kiss that Santana had ever experienced, thought she had to admit she’d been deprived of them for some time.
Santana pushed her away softly. “As nice as that was, Brittany, we can’t be together while you’re still with Artie.” She trailed a finger down Brittany’s arm, pouting with her maximum-strength bedroom eyes.
Resolutely, Brittany explained, “It was a good-bye kiss. You were right, Santana. I have to treat Artie right.”
Santana was sure her heart had just beat so hard it had burst right through her chest.
Brittany was still talking. “…and that means I can’t think about you all the time.”
And suddenly there was a spark of hope. “‘All the time’?” Santana teased.
“I’m serious. It hurts to be around you, because I want so bad to get our lady-kisses on, and then I feel worse for thinking that because it’s like I’m cheating on Artie in my head. He’s a nice guy, Santana; I can’t do this to him.”
Santana chose her words carefully. “Brittany, you’re not doing anything to him. You’re like everybody else in the world. You see a hot guy or a pretty girl and your body reacts. It’s natural. As long as you’re not, like, in love with me, Artie will understand. If not, you know what to do.”
Had Santana not been watching Brittany’s face so intently, she would have missed the momentarily fear that flashed across it. “You think I should tell him?”
“If it’s weighing down on you, it might help to confess what you’re feeling. You two can work it out from there.” It was a risky gamble, but Santana would prefer a volatile relationship over a serene one.
Brittany rambled, “Okay. Listen, can we take a break? I mean, not like that, I just… can I be the one who says when we hang out? I need some space, but I don’t want to, like, not be friends-this isn’t goodbye-I just… I’m confused.”
“I’m here for you, always. If it seems like I’m tempting you, I’m sorry.” She left out the confession of her intentions in her apology. “Follow your heart,” she instructed, placing her hand on Brittany’s breast.
Brittany pulled away from the hand, but didn’t give Santana an accusing glare. She smiled weakly and gave a mumbled “thanks” before racing out of the room with saying goodbye.
So, it looks like the battle for Brittany’s heart has officially begun. Legless McGeek doesn’t even realize he should be fighting. Advantage: Santana Lopez. As Santana stared up at the planet models hanging from the ceiling, she thought about gravity.
Author’s Note: And I’m not so naïve to think none of you would notice I ripped off the Chevy commercial. I kind of split this episode unevenly, so even though I had a lot of original material to work with, the last chapter was much longer than this one, and I needed to bridge some plot holes anyway. I thought this chapter could use some levity, too.
Chapter 15: But I Can’t Help It