growing up shouldn't mean goodbye
Title: growing up shouldn't mean goodbye
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,158
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Brittany/Santana.
Note(s): This is the shortest thing I've written in a while, dealing with loose ends that really bugged me after the season finale. Uh, this story does not have a happy ending.
Summary: Right after graduation, Brittany and Santana have a talk about the future that ends with a beheaded unicorn and trip to the bar.
It had been messy. Feelings are always messy.
Fuck feelings, Santana thought, hammering back another shot. Scandals may be a gay bar, but they still heartbroken dykes in. Santana had skipped her own graduation party to be her and must of looked pretty pathetic, because the bartender didn't even card her. Whatever. She didn't want to deal with her family's presence and her friends' excitement over being done with high school.
Well, not everyone was done.
Even if she had only been told this week, Santana knew that Britt wasn't going to be graduating with her. She'd failed too many classes and no amount of attempted tutoring on the glee club's part could help her. In some ways, Santana had been relieved, because she figured that Brittney flunking would sufficiently avert any more conversations about the future.
Right after the graduation ceremony, Santana went to Brittany's house. They were going to get ready for Santana's party together and then head to Breadstix for dinner. As Santana shimmied out of her graduation gown, Brittney snuggled up close and gave her an envelope. "It's part two of your graduation present."
Santana raised an eyebrow, turning the envelope over in her hands. "What was part one?"
"That thing we did right before you graduated."
Brittany kept nuzzling her cheek and, grinning wickedly, Santana opened up the envelope. If anything she was expecting a homemade card or maybe some nudie pictures. She could have never predicted the letter of admission she found inside, addressed to one Brittany S. Pierce. She'd been wait listed for some dance program in Louisville, so long as she could bring her GPA to at least a 2.5 by the end of the fall quarter.
"Do you like it?" Brittany asked, bouncing on her heels, "We're gonna be together next year!"
Santana's mouth went dry, because she had never imagined Brittany doing something like this. Yeah, she wanted them to stay together for the long run, but Santana planned on using their year long separation as a way of easing Britt into the idea of New York City instead of Louisville. She was pretty sure her girlfriend wouldn't even know the difference.
"Britt-Britt, I gotta tell you something," Santana said, the foreign feeling of guilt building in her stomach, "I gave up the scholarship to Louisville."
Brittany scrunched her face up, confused. Once, when they were lying in bed together, she had pressed herself close to Santana's side, murmuring promises against the other girl's skin. Santana remembered that night vividly and the look on her girlfriend's face when Brittany had leaned in close to whisper, "I'm glad we fell in love."
Now, Santana could almost hear Brittany's heart breaking when she said, "But I worked really hard for to get you there. And you love fried chicken!"
Here's the thing: as much as she tries with Brittany, Santana will never be a patient person. For the past few weeks, all anyone could talk about was about their college plans and she's absolutely sick of it. The only person who ever got her before was Brittany, but now even she was on the asshole train to collegeville. So, when Santana tore the acceptance letter in two, she at least had the excuse of weeks worth of mounting rage behind it.
"God, you're so stupid!" Santana yelled, "I never wanted to go to college, especially not in another redneck state that's going to hate me because I like women. A scholarship doesn't erase a sex tape, Britt!"
And Brittany wailed about how she thought they were okay about that now and she didn't care about people staring when they held hands, because it felt good and when she built her time machine, she'd go back and tell herself that the tape was a bad idea. All she ever wanted to do was help Santana get famous and make all her dreams come true.
"Maybe you need to stop helping me," Santana said.
And like that, it something snapped in Brittany. She released Lord Tubbington, who she had been holding tight to her chest ever since they started fighting. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Brittany started to dig through her pile of stuffed animals, eventually pulling out a toy unicorn that Santana won for her on Senior Skip Day. Solemnly, she pressed it into Santana's arms and said, "I think you need to go."
Santana balked. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I love you. But not everyone is special enough to get two senior years and I want to make sure my second one is really special. I'm going to Louisville next year and if you have hang ups about Colonel Sanders or whatever, it's not gonna work."
"Holy shit. You're seriously breaking up with me?"
Brittany smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to Santana's mouth. Her lips were cracked and she tasted like bubblegum chap stick and salt water. When she pulled away, Santana licked her lips, savoring it. Brittany kissed the tip of the unicorn's horn and then stepped back.
"We're both going to be stars, Santana, but when you put too many stars in one place, gravy makes them float away from each other. I learned that in physics."
Normally, Santana would correct her about how to pronounce 'gravity' or wonder at the fact that Britt actually learned something in class. Instead blood rushed through her veins and rage boiled her belly. She wanted to scream at Brittany; awful, terrible things that she knows would break the girl to the core. Instead, Santana allowed herself to be gently pulled out of Brittany's bedroom and out of the Pierce house all together.
On the door step, Brittany gave her a quick hug before stepping back inside.
"You can still call me," she said, "I won't ignore them like I do to Artie."
And then she closed the door and was gone. Santana stood there for a moment, shocked. Then, there was a clap of thunder and a down pour started. Brittany had drove her to the house and she had no way home. Santana tore the unicorn's head off. It was a cheap stuffed animal and had been well cuddled during it's short life, so it was easy. As she walked down the drive, Santana paused only to put the decapitated head into Brittany's mail box.
Feeling numb, she eventually kicked off her graduation heels and began to run. The adrenaline pumping through her body meant she made it to Scandals in about ten minutes, but when she stumbled in, Santana was soaked to the bone and her thighs ached.
When she sat down at the bar, Santana asked the bartender to line up tequila shots and keep 'em coming. She'd drink until the ache of Britt dumping her was gone, then call Blanderson to pick her up. (He was the only person she knew who would: a) actually come and b) not want to talk about what happened.)
It was half an hour into her binge, it still hurt when Santana thought about the curve of Britt's mouth, so she took another drink. It was gonna be a long night.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,158
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Brittany/Santana.
Note(s): This is the shortest thing I've written in a while, dealing with loose ends that really bugged me after the season finale. Uh, this story does not have a happy ending.
Summary: Right after graduation, Brittany and Santana have a talk about the future that ends with a beheaded unicorn and trip to the bar.
It had been messy. Feelings are always messy.
Fuck feelings, Santana thought, hammering back another shot. Scandals may be a gay bar, but they still heartbroken dykes in. Santana had skipped her own graduation party to be her and must of looked pretty pathetic, because the bartender didn't even card her. Whatever. She didn't want to deal with her family's presence and her friends' excitement over being done with high school.
Well, not everyone was done.
Even if she had only been told this week, Santana knew that Britt wasn't going to be graduating with her. She'd failed too many classes and no amount of attempted tutoring on the glee club's part could help her. In some ways, Santana had been relieved, because she figured that Brittney flunking would sufficiently avert any more conversations about the future.
Right after the graduation ceremony, Santana went to Brittany's house. They were going to get ready for Santana's party together and then head to Breadstix for dinner. As Santana shimmied out of her graduation gown, Brittney snuggled up close and gave her an envelope. "It's part two of your graduation present."
Santana raised an eyebrow, turning the envelope over in her hands. "What was part one?"
"That thing we did right before you graduated."
Brittany kept nuzzling her cheek and, grinning wickedly, Santana opened up the envelope. If anything she was expecting a homemade card or maybe some nudie pictures. She could have never predicted the letter of admission she found inside, addressed to one Brittany S. Pierce. She'd been wait listed for some dance program in Louisville, so long as she could bring her GPA to at least a 2.5 by the end of the fall quarter.
"Do you like it?" Brittany asked, bouncing on her heels, "We're gonna be together next year!"
Santana's mouth went dry, because she had never imagined Brittany doing something like this. Yeah, she wanted them to stay together for the long run, but Santana planned on using their year long separation as a way of easing Britt into the idea of New York City instead of Louisville. She was pretty sure her girlfriend wouldn't even know the difference.
"Britt-Britt, I gotta tell you something," Santana said, the foreign feeling of guilt building in her stomach, "I gave up the scholarship to Louisville."
Brittany scrunched her face up, confused. Once, when they were lying in bed together, she had pressed herself close to Santana's side, murmuring promises against the other girl's skin. Santana remembered that night vividly and the look on her girlfriend's face when Brittany had leaned in close to whisper, "I'm glad we fell in love."
Now, Santana could almost hear Brittany's heart breaking when she said, "But I worked really hard for to get you there. And you love fried chicken!"
Here's the thing: as much as she tries with Brittany, Santana will never be a patient person. For the past few weeks, all anyone could talk about was about their college plans and she's absolutely sick of it. The only person who ever got her before was Brittany, but now even she was on the asshole train to collegeville. So, when Santana tore the acceptance letter in two, she at least had the excuse of weeks worth of mounting rage behind it.
"God, you're so stupid!" Santana yelled, "I never wanted to go to college, especially not in another redneck state that's going to hate me because I like women. A scholarship doesn't erase a sex tape, Britt!"
And Brittany wailed about how she thought they were okay about that now and she didn't care about people staring when they held hands, because it felt good and when she built her time machine, she'd go back and tell herself that the tape was a bad idea. All she ever wanted to do was help Santana get famous and make all her dreams come true.
"Maybe you need to stop helping me," Santana said.
And like that, it something snapped in Brittany. She released Lord Tubbington, who she had been holding tight to her chest ever since they started fighting. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Brittany started to dig through her pile of stuffed animals, eventually pulling out a toy unicorn that Santana won for her on Senior Skip Day. Solemnly, she pressed it into Santana's arms and said, "I think you need to go."
Santana balked. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I love you. But not everyone is special enough to get two senior years and I want to make sure my second one is really special. I'm going to Louisville next year and if you have hang ups about Colonel Sanders or whatever, it's not gonna work."
"Holy shit. You're seriously breaking up with me?"
Brittany smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to Santana's mouth. Her lips were cracked and she tasted like bubblegum chap stick and salt water. When she pulled away, Santana licked her lips, savoring it. Brittany kissed the tip of the unicorn's horn and then stepped back.
"We're both going to be stars, Santana, but when you put too many stars in one place, gravy makes them float away from each other. I learned that in physics."
Normally, Santana would correct her about how to pronounce 'gravity' or wonder at the fact that Britt actually learned something in class. Instead blood rushed through her veins and rage boiled her belly. She wanted to scream at Brittany; awful, terrible things that she knows would break the girl to the core. Instead, Santana allowed herself to be gently pulled out of Brittany's bedroom and out of the Pierce house all together.
On the door step, Brittany gave her a quick hug before stepping back inside.
"You can still call me," she said, "I won't ignore them like I do to Artie."
And then she closed the door and was gone. Santana stood there for a moment, shocked. Then, there was a clap of thunder and a down pour started. Brittany had drove her to the house and she had no way home. Santana tore the unicorn's head off. It was a cheap stuffed animal and had been well cuddled during it's short life, so it was easy. As she walked down the drive, Santana paused only to put the decapitated head into Brittany's mail box.
Feeling numb, she eventually kicked off her graduation heels and began to run. The adrenaline pumping through her body meant she made it to Scandals in about ten minutes, but when she stumbled in, Santana was soaked to the bone and her thighs ached.
When she sat down at the bar, Santana asked the bartender to line up tequila shots and keep 'em coming. She'd drink until the ache of Britt dumping her was gone, then call Blanderson to pick her up. (He was the only person she knew who would: a) actually come and b) not want to talk about what happened.)
It was half an hour into her binge, it still hurt when Santana thought about the curve of Britt's mouth, so she took another drink. It was gonna be a long night.