Fic: it's a feeling i guess that i'll get used to (Santana, PG-13) (1/2)
Title: it’s a feeling i guess that i’ll get used to
Characters: Santana, (Brittany/Santana, Sam/Santana)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Brittany goes away with her parents for the first month of the summer, and Santana finds a friend she wasn’t expecting.
A/N: Set between seasons two and three, this serves as a prequel to i-80 west, and is mostly the story of how Sam and Santana came to be the geeky friends they are in that fic. This is mostly Santana focused gen, with guest appearances from some other characters.
It’s only just now that she’s realising just how much it sucks that Brittany’s going away on this month long family vacation to see her mom’s family in Santa Fe as soon as school ends, and even though Brittany tells her she’ll call and text every single day on the way home from school it still feels like she’s losing something she’s only just gotten back and she doesn’t know what to do about it.
It doesn’t help that she still doesn’t know exactly where they stand, or if she can be just friends with Brittany if that’s really all they are now. Brittany isn’t with Artie anymore, but she didn’t say anything about being with her either, and she thinks if she asks she might break it all again and she’d be left with no Brittany at all.
They just sort of stare at each other when they get to Brittany’s house, Santana’s hands twisting around the straps of her backpack while Brittany blinks at her steadily, and after a moment she says, “Santana...”
She trails off like she’s completely lost.
“I’ll miss you,” Santana says, her eyes on the floor and sort of swallowing the words to make sure they don’t come out too emotional, because Brittany had agreed that they were best friends, and she doesn’t remember wanting to cry like this the years before when they’d said goodbye for a month on the sidewalk outside Brittany’s house.
“I’ll miss you too,” Brittany says, with a half second’s delay, like that’s not actually what she wanted to say exactly, and then she’s reaching for Santana and pulling her into her arms, her face pressing into her neck as she holds her close.
Santana lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, inhaling Brittany’s shampoo and perfume and wishing she never had to let go.
“Have a good time with your family,” Santana mumbles into her hair, her fingers curling around Brittany’s waist and into the fabric of her shirt.
They stay like that for long moments before either of them moves, and Santana’s the first one to step away, realising they’re standing outside Brittany’s house clinging to each other and wondering what Brittany’s parents would say if they saw them, the same way she wondered what people would say who saw them in the hallway at school.
“I’ll call you,” Brittany says and all Santana can do is nod before she has to turn away so Brittany doesn’t see the look on her face.
She walks as fast as she can, feeling Brittany’s eyes on her back as she clutches the straps of her backpack tightly, until her knuckles turn white.
+
She’s pretty silent through dinner with her parents, not really answering their questions and picking at her food. She can feel her cell phone vibrating in her pocket but doesn’t dare answer it, even though it might be Brittany, in case her parents freak out about phones at the table again, like they do whenever they all manage to be in at the same time for once and get to eat together.
Her dad asks her what her plans for the summer are and if she plans to spend it with Sam-it takes her a moment to realise he thinks they’re still dating, and she only realises because her mom hisses, “David!” at him across the table-and she just shrugs her shoulders non-committal because she’s not dating him either.
(She doesn’t know if she’s even dating at all, never mind how to explain it to her parents.)
“Brittany’s going to Santa Fe,” she volunteers eventually in this listless voice when they start asking if she has plans with friends, and her parents exchange glances for a long moment before she asks if she can be excused and they let her go.
+
She watches a movie on her computer without really seeing it, toying with her phone and reading the messages Brittany sent her through dinner over and over, wondering what she can say back.
It’s just Brittany, but everything feels different now, so she doesn’t know if she says that she wishes she could come on the trip as well it’d be weird, because she did go to visit family with her one summer when they were younger and it wasn’t weird at all.
Everything just feels so heavy now, and she tries to concentrate on the movie instead, just to turn her brain off for a while because it feels like she’s just thinking the same things over and over and never coming up with any answers. She’s seen the movie before but Amanda Bynes is cute, and it helps it all stop for a little while, until he remembers the last time she watched this movie, snuggled up on the couch in Brittany’s basement and pointedly not talking about the fact that they were pressed so close together under the blanket.
She rolls over on the bed and reaches for her computer to change movies, clicking the first thing that comes up on Netflix just to get the other one to stop, hitting play blindly and trying to shake Brittany’s face from her mind.
She thinks she nods off, and it’s only her phone vibrating on her stomach as she lies on her bed that wakes her up. She rubs her hands against her face as she taps at the screen and opens the message and then blinks a little when she sees what it says.
open ur window
(10.48pm)
--
Once she’s got her window open and leans her head out to look, she sees Brittany grinning up at her from the lawn. She’s wearing shorts and a hoodie with her hair spilling down her back, and she looks so beautiful in the little light shining from the porch that Santana almost can’t stand it.
“Come down?” Brittany calls, just loud enough for her to hear, and Santana doesn’t even think, just nods and grabs her jacket from the back of her chair, before padding down the stairs barefoot and pausing in the hallway to listen for her parents. She slips down the stairs and only pauses for half a second to run a hand through her hair and check her reflection in the mirror in the hall before creeping out the front door as quietly as she can, and when she turns around, Brittany’s standing on her porch waiting for her, half a smile tugging at her lips.
“What are you doing here, Britt?” Santana says before she can help herself, and hates the way it comes out kind of hopeful.
“I wanted to say goodbye before I leave,” she murmurs, taking a step closer and reaching to curl her fingers around Santana’s pinky, tugging until Santana’s forced to move closer.
“I really wish I was staying,” she says before Santana can say anything. She leans down a little to meet Santana’s eyes, “You know that, right?”
She brushes a strand of hair away from Santana’s eyes with her free hand, and Santana can’t stop herself from leaning into the touch, featherlight and gone almost as quick as it starts.
“I wanted you to know that,” Brittany says in this tiny voice when Santana still doesn’t say anything, and Santana just nods, not trusting herself to speak.
“Have a good time, Britty,” Santana says eventually, swallowing to clear the lump in her throat.
“I won’t without you,” Brittany murmurs, and when Santana blinks she’s suddenly a lot closer than before, her eyes flicking down to Santana’s lips and then up to her eyes, and Santana feels something flip over in her stomach.
Her hand goes up to Brittany’s cheek before she can stop it and then she’s moving too, but it still feels like an impossibly long time until their lips meet, soft at first and then a little harder, Brittany’s tongue darting out to lick at Santana’s bottom lip until she opens her mouth and deepens the kiss, sighing into it and relaxing into Brittany’s arms.
It’s the first time they’ve kissed since before the lockers, and Santana hadn’t know it was possible to miss something this much until this moment, until Brittany’s hand is in her hair and her other hand is in the small of her back, holding her close under the porch light as they kiss slowly, getting use to the feel of each other again. She can’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she’s taking something that she has no right to and being selfish again because nothing has really changed, but Brittany’s fingers curl around her jaw and she pushes the thought away.
She can hate herself in the morning, when Brittany’s on the way to New Mexico and the taste of her is fading from her lips.
She doesn’t know how long it lasts, because all she can think is that she’s kissing Brittany again and trying to remember it all just in case it’s the last time as well, but Brittany’s the first one to pull back, bumping her forehead against Santana’s while she exhales shakily and smiles.
“I have to get home before my mom realises I’m gone,” Brittany says, wiping her thumb across Santana’s bottom lip until she shivers. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Britt,” Santana says, sort of brokenly, and then they’re clinging onto each other like they never want to let go, Brittany pressing one last desperate kiss to her lips before she pulls herself away, their fingers the last thing to let go because Santana tries to hold on as long as she can, and disappears into the dark.
+
She spends almost all of the first day Brittany is gone in her bedroom, not bothering to change out of her pajamas because her parents are both at work and there’s no one else to see her. She can’t stop thinking about the kiss, and how Brittany has texted her a message that just said goodnight xxx when she got home, which seems like the kind of thing you’d maybe text a boyfriend or girlfriend rather than just a friend.
Anything’s possible, Brittany had said, but she still doesn’t know what that means, especially because they spent ten minutes making out on her porch the night before and Brittany had acted like that was perfectly normal and not something Santana had spent the last three months wishing for desperately, with everything she had.
Brittany texts her a couple of times throughout the day, just updating her on where she is and Santana stares at the screen for a long time like it’s some sort of code she could only understand if she stared hard enough only it never seems to work.
Sometime in the afternoon she reaches for a notebook and pen from her desk and tries to scribble down everything she knows, like how Brittany had said she loved her more than anyone else in the world but how she’d also said she was her best friend and so maybe she meant she loved her like a friend too, how she’d come over just to kiss her and texts her updates like they’ve been married for ever but how she’d left without saying if that meant anything or if Santana’s just reading into it way more than she should.
She ends up with a mess of words and nothing that really makes sense and she rips the page out and tears it up before shoving it into her bin and wondering why she even bothered in the first place.
+
It’s two days since Brittany’s been gone when she hears the Skype alert for an incoming call, and she dives across the room faster than she’d ever admit just in case it’s Brittany calling her. Whatever, she’s not pathetic, but somewhere in the back of her mind she thinks that it might be Brittany with some sort of answer to all the questions in her head, even though she know it’s never going to be that easy, and she hits answer blindly and then blinks when the picture loads.
“Santana?” he says, at the same time she says, “Sam?”
They haven’t really spoken to each other since she stopped making out with him just to prove that she could and they both stare for a moment before she forces herself to speak. “Did you want something?” It comes out harsher than she intended and she watches a brief scowl flash over his features.
“I was trying to call Artie but I must have clicked the wrong name,” he says and the scowl deepens when she says, “Obviously.”
“Shouldn’t you be making out with Karofsky or something? Why are you on your own in the room with the shades drawn?” his eyes flick around her room curiously, and she moves closer to the screen to try and block his view.
“We, um. I’m not with Karofsky,” is all she says, shifting a little uncomfortably as his eyes settle on her, because she doesn’t need to explain herself to Sam Evans of all people.
“Oh,” he says, “Bummer.” And he actually sounds like he means it too which is something she never understood about him.
“Whatever,” she says, because she honestly has no idea why they’re still talking about this. “Look, Trouty Mouth, this was fun and all, but let’s not do it again any time soon, okay?” she starts to reach for the trackpad to disconnect the call.
“Wait, Santana,” he says quickly. “Do you know if Karofsky likes comic books? I’m trying to sell some stuff, that’s why I was looking for Artie, and I already tried Mike but he has most of these so-”
“You’re selling your comic books?” she asks, because the only thing she really learnt about Sam while they were “dating” was that he was a nerd for all that superhero shit. She still remembers the time she’d accidentally set a can of soda down on top of an issue of Batman or something and he’d screamed this ridiculous girly scream, even though it was in a plastic cover.
“My family needs the money,” he says quietly, after a moment, suddenly serious. “They’re the only thing I have left to sell.” He looks kind of like a kicked puppy for just a moment, and Santana actually feels sorry for him.
“Um, you’re on a computer right now,” Santana says because she figures he’d probably rather lose that than the books and watches him shake his head, his shaggy hair dropping into his eyes. He pushes it away.
“It’s Kurt’s,” he says. “He lent it to me for school and stuff.”
“I’m sorry you have to sell your comic books,” she says after a moment and he just nods like he knows she means it even though it comes out kind of stilted and awkward.
“I’m sorry you broke up with Karofsky,” he says and Santana swallows at the lie again.
“You shouldn’t be,” she says quickly, “And I don’t know if he likes comic books, so you should probably stick to Artie. I’ll see you, Sam.”
It’s maybe the first time she’s ever used his actual name, including all those times they were actually making out, and he meets her eyes for a second before he hangs up. “See you, Santana.”
+
Brittany texts her a picture from her grandma’s pool in Santa Fe with wish u were here :) xxx underneath it, only she managed to get half of her own legs in the shot as well, stretched out on a sun lounger and so bronzed by the sun that Santana almost swallows her own tongue when she opens it.
looking good x she sends back, because fuck, that’s the truth, and she’s still staring at the picture when Brittany’s reply comes back.
i just wanna cuddle with you by the pool xxx and Santana really doesn’t know what to do with that at all.
She wants to ask what that means, but she doesn’t know how, so she just stares at her phone and the empty message box for a long time, trying to think of what to say.
+
Quinn texts her a couple of times but she ignores it, mostly because it’s gotten to the point where she has to stuff her phone into a drawer and ignore Brittany’s messages for the sake of her sanity because Brittany keeps talking about cuddling and going out for dinner once she’s back and Quinn’s messages are kind of becoming collateral damage.
She just wants to know where she and Brittany stand instead of being in this weird in between place they’re inhabiting, talking to each other without really talking about it because the habit of a lifetime is hard to break even when you really want to and know that you have to if things are going to change.
She just wishes this was easier, because honestly she still doesn’t know how to tell people that she likes girls, and how that might change their opinion of her, when she isn’t really sure if they like her that much in the first place.
The fact that Quinn is texting her at all is something she hadn’t even really expected, and she suspects Brittany might have asked her to, which makes it hundreds of times worse.
She keeps getting lost inside her head, and she doesn’t know who can pull her out of it because she can’t talk to Brittany and she doesn’t know who else there is. Her mom keeps looking at her all concerned whenever she goes downstairs, asking if she’s still dating that nice David boy or if she’s going to go hang out with her friends soon with this look that she can’t really read.
She thinks her mom thinks she’s all heartbroken over him, and she’d honestly laugh if it didn’t make her want to cry.
+
She starts running late at night, because she has this sort of half formed plan about getting back on the Cheerios that she hasn’t told anyone about yet. She tries to go somewhere different every night, just to keep it interesting, her ipod blasting songs in her ears as her feet slap against the pavement.
Running helps her forget everything she spends her days worrying about, because she can concentrate on the music and the steady pace and force herself not to think beyond how long the next mile will take, and which way she should go at the end of each street.
It’s the third night since Sam called, and she isn’t even aware that her feet are taking her to his motel before she gets there, and she pulls up at the sight of him carrying a trash bag over to the dumpsters against the side of the motel building.
“Santana?” he calls, when she’s trying to catch her breath so she can run again, and she raises her hand in a little half wave of acknowledgement.
“Hey,” she says, trying to look casual but just sort of failing.
“What are you doing here?” he says, and she rolls her eyes.
“What does it look like?” she gestures down at her running shoes and waves her ipod in front of him.
“Like you’re about to die,” he says with a smirk. She kind of wants to hit him but she settles for narrowing her eyes.
“I’m going to try out for cheerleading again,” she says, though she doesn’t know why she’s telling him, and she coughs a little and looks away, trying to be casual. He just looks at her so she bounces a little on the spot and stretches her leg out in front of her, getting ready to go again.
“Okay,” he says, with a shrug. “Will you be okay getting home? It’s late.”
She rolls her eyes, “I’ll be fine, Trouty. Worry about yourself,” and then she’s running again.
+
She goes to visit her abuela because she doesn’t know what else to do, and she’s spent so many summers at her house that she feels like she should be there for this one too. Her abuela asks her to help her sort out some photographs and keepsakes that she’d found in the back of a cupboard and it turns out most of them are photographs of her when she was younger, some with her abuelo who died when she was little but a lot with friends and family members that Santana’s never seen before, and she stares at them interestedly, spotting her eyes and nose on some of the faces and hanging on her abuela’s words.
Her abuela looked so much like her when she was younger that it’s actually a little creepy, and she brushes her fingers against a photograph of her and her abuelo, peering at it closely while her abuela watches her.
“We grew up together you know,” her abuela says after a moment. She smiles to herself, her eyes going distant, and Santana daren’t move in case she disturbs the moment.
“He was such a gentleman, your abuelo. Everyone always said he was such a nice young man, and all the girls were jealous because he never ever looked at them,” she smiles to herself again, remembering.
“Did you always know he was the one?” Santana asks slowly, once it becomes obvious her abuela isn’t going to say anything else, and her eyes slide over to look at her, her expression going serious.
“Always. He was the only boy I kissed, and the only one I wanted to. Not like you and your boys!” her eyes narrow and Santana looks down at her feet, feeling the colour in her cheeks. “Are you still seeing David?”
“No, abuela,” Santana says quickly, shaking her head.
Her abuela tuts. “I never liked him anyway. Sam was a much nicer young man. Maybe you see Sam again now?”
Santana shakes her head again. She wants to say something but Brittany’s name is wedged in her throat and blocking everything from coming out. She tries to swallow and just succeeds in making her breath hitch instead.
“Is there someone else you like?” her abuela asks softly, her eyes fixed on Santana’s face, and Santana nods hesitantly, just once.
“I don’t know if-if they like me back,” she says, stumbling over the pronoun a little and hoping her abuela won’t notice.
Her abuela tuts again. “He’d be a fool not to,” she reaches over and nudges Santana’s chin with her hand, smiling a little, “Mi niña hermosa.”
Santana meets her eyes and smiles, just a little.
“That’s better,” her abuela says kindly, climbing to her feet with a little bit of a groan. “Now how about some lunch?”
“Sí, abuela,” Santana glances down at the photograph in her hand one more time before following her into the kitchen.
+
Brittany calls for the first time the next day, and Santana can’t bring herself to answer. She’s texted her back a couple of times, but it’s been a while since she did, and she wonders if Brittany’s calling her to see if she’s still there.
Her thumb hovers over the answer button but she lets it go to voicemail, and after a moment her phone vibrates to signal a new message.
“Hey you,” Brittany’s voice says, “I just wanted to hear your voice but I guess you’re busy or something, so. It’s really hot here and Ash is being a brat, and I wish I was back in Lima with you or you were here with me. I just wanna hug you and never ever let go. Can I do that when I get back? I’m not gonna let go of your hand for the whole rest of the summer. I promise, okay?” She sighs, and Santana hears her swallow before she says, “I really miss you, Santana.” There’s a pause while someone says something in the background and when she comes back she’s speaks quickly. “I gotta go, honey. Text me, okay? Love you,” and then she’s gone and Santana is scrambling to hit replay as fast as she can.
It’s only an hour later when the warning beeps on her phone for low battery that she realises just how many times she’s listened to the message and she realises exactly how pathetic that is with a jolt, shaking her head at herself, and hanging up on her voicemail just before Brittany says, “Love you,” again.
She climbs off her bed to go find her charger in her desk drawer and plug her phone into the wall, Brittany’s words replaying in her head, before she curls up on her bed again, trying to make sense of it all.
+
The next day her mom has the day off, and she comes to knock on Santana’s door, this look of concern on her face.
“Mom, I’m sleeping,” Santana says, even though she’s been awake for hours now and making a half hearted attempt to look through the college brochures she’d sent for before school finished, like she had any idea of where she wanted to go.
She just kept thinking how all of these colleges didn’t have Brittany, and wondering if Brittany had started to make plans like hers too. She’d always just kind of assumed that they’d go to college together, but after everything that happened last year, and the uncertainty around them now, those plans had started to drift away and she hadn’t found a way to get them back.
“Why don’t you call one of your friends, Santana?” her mom says, crossing the room to open the shades. “You haven’t seen Quinn for a while.”
She squints against the light and doesn’t know how to tell her mom that she’s not even sure if they’re friends anymore.
“Maybe,” she says after a moment. Her mom just looks at her so she reaches for the Stanford brochure on top of the pile next to her bed and waves it at he. “I was looking at colleges.”
“Stanford?” her mom says, coming around to see. “You want to go to California?”
Santana shrugs and drops it back down. “I’m still trying to figure that out,” she says, and her mom reaches to brush some hair away from her face with a little sigh.
“What about Brittany?” she asks softly, and her eyes snap round to look at her mom, widening slightly.
“What about Brittany?” Santana echoes, feeling her heart speed up a little in her chest.
“Do you know what she wants to do?” her mom asks, and Santana knows she’s only talking about colleges but she’s gotten this conversation confused somewhere along the way so she shakes her head no, because she doesn’t know at all.
+
Her evening run takes her through Quinn’s neighbourhood and she slows down when she gets to her house, remembering the text messages that went unanswered from the last couple of days. She stretches out her legs a little and shifts her hips from side to side, glancing up at Quinn’s window to see if the light is on.
It is, and she wonders if she’d come down if she threw a rock or something against the glass, but then she isn’t sure what she’d say other than she can’t look at her phone because Brittany keeps sending her all these messages and she doesn’t know what they mean.
Sure, she cut Quinn’s hair in New York, but she’s not sure if that one act fixed everything that had gone wrong between them since the first day of school the year before, and before that, back to when Quinn was pregnant and she’d bailed and taken Brittany with her.
She scuffs her toe against the gravel on Quinn’s driveway and glances up at her window again, but it’s such a ridiculous idea that she just shakes her head and starts running back towards her house, the music loud in her ears as she tries to block everything out.
+
She falls asleep listening to music on her computer, and wakes up because Skype is chirping at her again, only this time it’s not a call. She drags herself over to her desk and blinks at the screen, reaching for her glasses and waiting for the words to come into focus.
artie?
She scoffs when she sees his message and types back quickly, it’s santana again. how hard is it to tell us apart?
his username is swagbrams so ur rite next to each other, he types back quickly. sorry. (again).
swagbrams? she types before she can stop herself. She doesn’t have him added as a friend for obvious reasons, and she doesn’t know why she finds the name so hilarious, but.
i got more comics for him, he types next and Santana feels a pang of sympathy go through her again. we can’t afford the wifi much longer. my dad needs it for job hunting.
sorry :(, she types quickly, and she means it too.
yeah so i need to find someone to buy the comics artie didn’t want. he doesn’t like dc.
She has no idea what that last part means, and she searches around for something to say that might actually help for a minute before she says, can’t you sell them to the comic book store or something, the other nerds would probably buy them.
Sam ignores the insult, and she’s actually kind of glad, just types back, i can’t carry them all to the store on my own.
Santana bites her lip, and later she’ll totally blame the fact that he caught her when she was half asleep, but i could give u a ride, she types quickly, and hits enter before giving herself a chance to second guess it.
+
She makes sure she tells her mom that she’s going to hang out with Sam, because old habits die hard, and she sees her look interested for half a second before she nods and tells her to be back for dinner, offering her a smile as Santana grabs her keys and heads for the door, wondering if her mom would ever look the same way if she said she was going to hang out with Brittany.
She drives to the motel quickly and finds Sam sitting outside the door with three boxes stacked up next to him, and he looks surprised for a second when she pulls up, like he only half believed she was going to show.
“Hey,” he says, when she climbs out and goes round to open the trunk, and she just nods when he carries the first box over and drops it inside. “Thanks for this.”
She shrugs and watches him carry another box over. “It gives me something to do.”
“I thought you’d be hanging out with Brittany or something,” he says, and she looks away, wishing he’d hurry up.
“Brittany’s in New Mexico visiting family for the month,” she says quickly, like if she says the words fast enough he won’t catch the sadness in her voice but she thinks he can tell something is up because he glances at her as he drops the last box into the trunk for just a second too long before he looks away.
“That sucks,” he says, and Santana just climbs into the driver’s seat without saying anything and waits for him to follow.
“You know where Alter Ego is, right?” he says once she’s started the engine.
“I’ve driven past it,” she says cooly, and he just nods, accepting her answer and ignoring the harshness in her voice once again.
She doesn’t know why he keeps doing that, and she glances at him out of the corners of her eyes like she’s trying to work out what he’s going to do next.
“So what have you been up to since school finished?” he asks when they’re sitting at a red light, and she just glances over at him confused.
“You don’t have to do that,” she says, pushing the car back into drive. “You’re not my best friend all of a sudden.”
“How about a friend,” Sam says when she pulls up to the curb and she stares at him like she’s never seen him before, until he shrugs and climbs out.
“Thanks for the ride,” he says, “I’ll get my comics and you can go.”
“I wasn’t gonna stick around,” she says, only it doesn’t quite come out the way it’s meant to.
+
She goes out for a run when she gets back, and her feet carry her to Brittany’s empty house without her even thinking about it, and she comes to a stop to stare up at it for a moment as she sucks in air. It looks wrong just because she knows no-one is inside, even though the house doesn’t look any different than it normally does, and she glances up at Brittany’s window out of habit, half expecting to see her hanging out of it and waving with a grin on her face, the same way she had on dozens of summer afternoons before.
She hadn’t been around so much when Brittany was dating Artie, and she wonders if that’s what’s throwing her off, like maybe Brittany’s mom cut the flowers in the yard differently, or it’s just the sight of the yard without Ashley’s bike lying in it that’s weird and not the house itself.
She just wishes Brittany would come back, because she doesn’t know how long she can deal with things being empty or not where she expects them, and she starts to run again without looking back, just so she doesn’t have to see it anymore.
+
She really needs to start turning her computer off when she goes out because when she gets back to her room, there’s another message from Sam waiting for her. She clicks over to it quickly and scans the words.
hey santana i just wanted 2 say thanx for the ride today. i sold a bunch of my books and gave the money to my folks :)
no problem trouty, she types quickly and hits enter. She pauses for a moment before she adds, it sucks that you had to sell them and waits for him to reply.
family comes first, he says, and it reminds her so much of Brittany’s speech on the last day of school that she just stares at it for a moment, remembering the way Brittany had looked at her as they’d leaned against the lockers.
anyway thanks again :) he says, pulling her from her thoughts, and disconnects before she can reply.
+
Apparently there are only so many times you can play You Oughta Know loudly in your bedroom before your mom comes to see if you’re okay, and she comes in just when Santana’s tossing her phone across the room to land on the desk with a clatter and raises her eyebrows as she stares at her.
“Arguing with someone?” she says, and Santana doesn’t know how to explain that the problem is that Brittany keeps sending her text messages that she doesn’t know how to answer and she’s starting to get angry at herself every time her phone buzzes with a new one.
“Not really,” she says and shrugs when her mom tries to get a better look at her. She doesn’t say anything else, and after a moment the silence starts to stretch, until her mom sighs and crosses her arms over her chest the same way she does.
“Are you going to spend the whole summer in your room?”
Santana rolls her eyes, “No,” she says just sort of by reflex, before she’s even worked out the rest of the lie.
“No?” her mom repeats, disbelieving. The look her mom gives her forces her to keep going.
“I’m going to see, uh, Sam,” she says, because he’s literally the first person that comes into her head, and she doesn’t even want to think about why that is just now, just climbs off the bed and grabs her purse off her desk.
“Okay,” she says, stepping aside when Santana stands and makes to move past her. “But be home for dinner.”
“Sure,” Santana says as she clomps down the stairs, and hopes that Sam will actually be in when she gets there.
+
She drives over to the motel slowly, wondering if she should even bother or just circle round the block a couple of times or go to get a cup of coffee or something. She doesn’t know if Sam will even be there, and what to say to him if he is, because it’s not like they have the sort of relationship where they go and visit each other whenever they want to.
She pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine, but doesn’t get out of the car, just sits there twisting her hands round the wheel and wondering what part of this was a good idea.
She doesn’t notice the door to his family’s room open, so she jolts when he taps on her window with his little brother on his back and smiles as he waits for her to roll the window down.
“Stevie, this is my friend Santana,” he says, like they’re just carrying on a conversation or something and she stares for a moment before she works out what to say.
“Hey Stevie,” she says quickly, and after a moment she tugs the keys out of the ignition.
“Hi,” he says quietly, peering at her over Sam’s shoulder like he doesn’t quite trust her, and Sam gives him a shake as he sets him down and watches his run back towards their room.
“So what’s up,” Sam says, only it doesn’t sound like he means what are you doing here or what do you want, and Santana glances up at him through the window, like she’s not sure she heard him right.
“My mom said I should go out,” is what comes out, and she doesn’t understand why she keeps telling him these things, but.
“And you came to see me?” he says, his voice stopping just short of mocking. “Cool.”
“We don’t have to make a big deal out of it or anything,” Santana says, huffing out a breath of air and he laughs and reaches down to open her door.
“You can help me look after my brother and sister if you want,” he says, waiting for her to make her decision and even though she doesn’t know exactly why she does it, she twirls her key around her finger once more before stuffing it in her pocket and following him inside.
part two
Characters: Santana, (Brittany/Santana, Sam/Santana)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Brittany goes away with her parents for the first month of the summer, and Santana finds a friend she wasn’t expecting.
A/N: Set between seasons two and three, this serves as a prequel to i-80 west, and is mostly the story of how Sam and Santana came to be the geeky friends they are in that fic. This is mostly Santana focused gen, with guest appearances from some other characters.
It’s only just now that she’s realising just how much it sucks that Brittany’s going away on this month long family vacation to see her mom’s family in Santa Fe as soon as school ends, and even though Brittany tells her she’ll call and text every single day on the way home from school it still feels like she’s losing something she’s only just gotten back and she doesn’t know what to do about it.
It doesn’t help that she still doesn’t know exactly where they stand, or if she can be just friends with Brittany if that’s really all they are now. Brittany isn’t with Artie anymore, but she didn’t say anything about being with her either, and she thinks if she asks she might break it all again and she’d be left with no Brittany at all.
They just sort of stare at each other when they get to Brittany’s house, Santana’s hands twisting around the straps of her backpack while Brittany blinks at her steadily, and after a moment she says, “Santana...”
She trails off like she’s completely lost.
“I’ll miss you,” Santana says, her eyes on the floor and sort of swallowing the words to make sure they don’t come out too emotional, because Brittany had agreed that they were best friends, and she doesn’t remember wanting to cry like this the years before when they’d said goodbye for a month on the sidewalk outside Brittany’s house.
“I’ll miss you too,” Brittany says, with a half second’s delay, like that’s not actually what she wanted to say exactly, and then she’s reaching for Santana and pulling her into her arms, her face pressing into her neck as she holds her close.
Santana lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, inhaling Brittany’s shampoo and perfume and wishing she never had to let go.
“Have a good time with your family,” Santana mumbles into her hair, her fingers curling around Brittany’s waist and into the fabric of her shirt.
They stay like that for long moments before either of them moves, and Santana’s the first one to step away, realising they’re standing outside Brittany’s house clinging to each other and wondering what Brittany’s parents would say if they saw them, the same way she wondered what people would say who saw them in the hallway at school.
“I’ll call you,” Brittany says and all Santana can do is nod before she has to turn away so Brittany doesn’t see the look on her face.
She walks as fast as she can, feeling Brittany’s eyes on her back as she clutches the straps of her backpack tightly, until her knuckles turn white.
+
She’s pretty silent through dinner with her parents, not really answering their questions and picking at her food. She can feel her cell phone vibrating in her pocket but doesn’t dare answer it, even though it might be Brittany, in case her parents freak out about phones at the table again, like they do whenever they all manage to be in at the same time for once and get to eat together.
Her dad asks her what her plans for the summer are and if she plans to spend it with Sam-it takes her a moment to realise he thinks they’re still dating, and she only realises because her mom hisses, “David!” at him across the table-and she just shrugs her shoulders non-committal because she’s not dating him either.
(She doesn’t know if she’s even dating at all, never mind how to explain it to her parents.)
“Brittany’s going to Santa Fe,” she volunteers eventually in this listless voice when they start asking if she has plans with friends, and her parents exchange glances for a long moment before she asks if she can be excused and they let her go.
+
She watches a movie on her computer without really seeing it, toying with her phone and reading the messages Brittany sent her through dinner over and over, wondering what she can say back.
It’s just Brittany, but everything feels different now, so she doesn’t know if she says that she wishes she could come on the trip as well it’d be weird, because she did go to visit family with her one summer when they were younger and it wasn’t weird at all.
Everything just feels so heavy now, and she tries to concentrate on the movie instead, just to turn her brain off for a while because it feels like she’s just thinking the same things over and over and never coming up with any answers. She’s seen the movie before but Amanda Bynes is cute, and it helps it all stop for a little while, until he remembers the last time she watched this movie, snuggled up on the couch in Brittany’s basement and pointedly not talking about the fact that they were pressed so close together under the blanket.
She rolls over on the bed and reaches for her computer to change movies, clicking the first thing that comes up on Netflix just to get the other one to stop, hitting play blindly and trying to shake Brittany’s face from her mind.
She thinks she nods off, and it’s only her phone vibrating on her stomach as she lies on her bed that wakes her up. She rubs her hands against her face as she taps at the screen and opens the message and then blinks a little when she sees what it says.
open ur window
(10.48pm)
--
Once she’s got her window open and leans her head out to look, she sees Brittany grinning up at her from the lawn. She’s wearing shorts and a hoodie with her hair spilling down her back, and she looks so beautiful in the little light shining from the porch that Santana almost can’t stand it.
“Come down?” Brittany calls, just loud enough for her to hear, and Santana doesn’t even think, just nods and grabs her jacket from the back of her chair, before padding down the stairs barefoot and pausing in the hallway to listen for her parents. She slips down the stairs and only pauses for half a second to run a hand through her hair and check her reflection in the mirror in the hall before creeping out the front door as quietly as she can, and when she turns around, Brittany’s standing on her porch waiting for her, half a smile tugging at her lips.
“What are you doing here, Britt?” Santana says before she can help herself, and hates the way it comes out kind of hopeful.
“I wanted to say goodbye before I leave,” she murmurs, taking a step closer and reaching to curl her fingers around Santana’s pinky, tugging until Santana’s forced to move closer.
“I really wish I was staying,” she says before Santana can say anything. She leans down a little to meet Santana’s eyes, “You know that, right?”
She brushes a strand of hair away from Santana’s eyes with her free hand, and Santana can’t stop herself from leaning into the touch, featherlight and gone almost as quick as it starts.
“I wanted you to know that,” Brittany says in this tiny voice when Santana still doesn’t say anything, and Santana just nods, not trusting herself to speak.
“Have a good time, Britty,” Santana says eventually, swallowing to clear the lump in her throat.
“I won’t without you,” Brittany murmurs, and when Santana blinks she’s suddenly a lot closer than before, her eyes flicking down to Santana’s lips and then up to her eyes, and Santana feels something flip over in her stomach.
Her hand goes up to Brittany’s cheek before she can stop it and then she’s moving too, but it still feels like an impossibly long time until their lips meet, soft at first and then a little harder, Brittany’s tongue darting out to lick at Santana’s bottom lip until she opens her mouth and deepens the kiss, sighing into it and relaxing into Brittany’s arms.
It’s the first time they’ve kissed since before the lockers, and Santana hadn’t know it was possible to miss something this much until this moment, until Brittany’s hand is in her hair and her other hand is in the small of her back, holding her close under the porch light as they kiss slowly, getting use to the feel of each other again. She can’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she’s taking something that she has no right to and being selfish again because nothing has really changed, but Brittany’s fingers curl around her jaw and she pushes the thought away.
She can hate herself in the morning, when Brittany’s on the way to New Mexico and the taste of her is fading from her lips.
She doesn’t know how long it lasts, because all she can think is that she’s kissing Brittany again and trying to remember it all just in case it’s the last time as well, but Brittany’s the first one to pull back, bumping her forehead against Santana’s while she exhales shakily and smiles.
“I have to get home before my mom realises I’m gone,” Brittany says, wiping her thumb across Santana’s bottom lip until she shivers. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Britt,” Santana says, sort of brokenly, and then they’re clinging onto each other like they never want to let go, Brittany pressing one last desperate kiss to her lips before she pulls herself away, their fingers the last thing to let go because Santana tries to hold on as long as she can, and disappears into the dark.
+
She spends almost all of the first day Brittany is gone in her bedroom, not bothering to change out of her pajamas because her parents are both at work and there’s no one else to see her. She can’t stop thinking about the kiss, and how Brittany has texted her a message that just said goodnight xxx when she got home, which seems like the kind of thing you’d maybe text a boyfriend or girlfriend rather than just a friend.
Anything’s possible, Brittany had said, but she still doesn’t know what that means, especially because they spent ten minutes making out on her porch the night before and Brittany had acted like that was perfectly normal and not something Santana had spent the last three months wishing for desperately, with everything she had.
Brittany texts her a couple of times throughout the day, just updating her on where she is and Santana stares at the screen for a long time like it’s some sort of code she could only understand if she stared hard enough only it never seems to work.
Sometime in the afternoon she reaches for a notebook and pen from her desk and tries to scribble down everything she knows, like how Brittany had said she loved her more than anyone else in the world but how she’d also said she was her best friend and so maybe she meant she loved her like a friend too, how she’d come over just to kiss her and texts her updates like they’ve been married for ever but how she’d left without saying if that meant anything or if Santana’s just reading into it way more than she should.
She ends up with a mess of words and nothing that really makes sense and she rips the page out and tears it up before shoving it into her bin and wondering why she even bothered in the first place.
+
It’s two days since Brittany’s been gone when she hears the Skype alert for an incoming call, and she dives across the room faster than she’d ever admit just in case it’s Brittany calling her. Whatever, she’s not pathetic, but somewhere in the back of her mind she thinks that it might be Brittany with some sort of answer to all the questions in her head, even though she know it’s never going to be that easy, and she hits answer blindly and then blinks when the picture loads.
“Santana?” he says, at the same time she says, “Sam?”
They haven’t really spoken to each other since she stopped making out with him just to prove that she could and they both stare for a moment before she forces herself to speak. “Did you want something?” It comes out harsher than she intended and she watches a brief scowl flash over his features.
“I was trying to call Artie but I must have clicked the wrong name,” he says and the scowl deepens when she says, “Obviously.”
“Shouldn’t you be making out with Karofsky or something? Why are you on your own in the room with the shades drawn?” his eyes flick around her room curiously, and she moves closer to the screen to try and block his view.
“We, um. I’m not with Karofsky,” is all she says, shifting a little uncomfortably as his eyes settle on her, because she doesn’t need to explain herself to Sam Evans of all people.
“Oh,” he says, “Bummer.” And he actually sounds like he means it too which is something she never understood about him.
“Whatever,” she says, because she honestly has no idea why they’re still talking about this. “Look, Trouty Mouth, this was fun and all, but let’s not do it again any time soon, okay?” she starts to reach for the trackpad to disconnect the call.
“Wait, Santana,” he says quickly. “Do you know if Karofsky likes comic books? I’m trying to sell some stuff, that’s why I was looking for Artie, and I already tried Mike but he has most of these so-”
“You’re selling your comic books?” she asks, because the only thing she really learnt about Sam while they were “dating” was that he was a nerd for all that superhero shit. She still remembers the time she’d accidentally set a can of soda down on top of an issue of Batman or something and he’d screamed this ridiculous girly scream, even though it was in a plastic cover.
“My family needs the money,” he says quietly, after a moment, suddenly serious. “They’re the only thing I have left to sell.” He looks kind of like a kicked puppy for just a moment, and Santana actually feels sorry for him.
“Um, you’re on a computer right now,” Santana says because she figures he’d probably rather lose that than the books and watches him shake his head, his shaggy hair dropping into his eyes. He pushes it away.
“It’s Kurt’s,” he says. “He lent it to me for school and stuff.”
“I’m sorry you have to sell your comic books,” she says after a moment and he just nods like he knows she means it even though it comes out kind of stilted and awkward.
“I’m sorry you broke up with Karofsky,” he says and Santana swallows at the lie again.
“You shouldn’t be,” she says quickly, “And I don’t know if he likes comic books, so you should probably stick to Artie. I’ll see you, Sam.”
It’s maybe the first time she’s ever used his actual name, including all those times they were actually making out, and he meets her eyes for a second before he hangs up. “See you, Santana.”
+
Brittany texts her a picture from her grandma’s pool in Santa Fe with wish u were here :) xxx underneath it, only she managed to get half of her own legs in the shot as well, stretched out on a sun lounger and so bronzed by the sun that Santana almost swallows her own tongue when she opens it.
looking good x she sends back, because fuck, that’s the truth, and she’s still staring at the picture when Brittany’s reply comes back.
i just wanna cuddle with you by the pool xxx and Santana really doesn’t know what to do with that at all.
She wants to ask what that means, but she doesn’t know how, so she just stares at her phone and the empty message box for a long time, trying to think of what to say.
+
Quinn texts her a couple of times but she ignores it, mostly because it’s gotten to the point where she has to stuff her phone into a drawer and ignore Brittany’s messages for the sake of her sanity because Brittany keeps talking about cuddling and going out for dinner once she’s back and Quinn’s messages are kind of becoming collateral damage.
She just wants to know where she and Brittany stand instead of being in this weird in between place they’re inhabiting, talking to each other without really talking about it because the habit of a lifetime is hard to break even when you really want to and know that you have to if things are going to change.
She just wishes this was easier, because honestly she still doesn’t know how to tell people that she likes girls, and how that might change their opinion of her, when she isn’t really sure if they like her that much in the first place.
The fact that Quinn is texting her at all is something she hadn’t even really expected, and she suspects Brittany might have asked her to, which makes it hundreds of times worse.
She keeps getting lost inside her head, and she doesn’t know who can pull her out of it because she can’t talk to Brittany and she doesn’t know who else there is. Her mom keeps looking at her all concerned whenever she goes downstairs, asking if she’s still dating that nice David boy or if she’s going to go hang out with her friends soon with this look that she can’t really read.
She thinks her mom thinks she’s all heartbroken over him, and she’d honestly laugh if it didn’t make her want to cry.
+
She starts running late at night, because she has this sort of half formed plan about getting back on the Cheerios that she hasn’t told anyone about yet. She tries to go somewhere different every night, just to keep it interesting, her ipod blasting songs in her ears as her feet slap against the pavement.
Running helps her forget everything she spends her days worrying about, because she can concentrate on the music and the steady pace and force herself not to think beyond how long the next mile will take, and which way she should go at the end of each street.
It’s the third night since Sam called, and she isn’t even aware that her feet are taking her to his motel before she gets there, and she pulls up at the sight of him carrying a trash bag over to the dumpsters against the side of the motel building.
“Santana?” he calls, when she’s trying to catch her breath so she can run again, and she raises her hand in a little half wave of acknowledgement.
“Hey,” she says, trying to look casual but just sort of failing.
“What are you doing here?” he says, and she rolls her eyes.
“What does it look like?” she gestures down at her running shoes and waves her ipod in front of him.
“Like you’re about to die,” he says with a smirk. She kind of wants to hit him but she settles for narrowing her eyes.
“I’m going to try out for cheerleading again,” she says, though she doesn’t know why she’s telling him, and she coughs a little and looks away, trying to be casual. He just looks at her so she bounces a little on the spot and stretches her leg out in front of her, getting ready to go again.
“Okay,” he says, with a shrug. “Will you be okay getting home? It’s late.”
She rolls her eyes, “I’ll be fine, Trouty. Worry about yourself,” and then she’s running again.
+
She goes to visit her abuela because she doesn’t know what else to do, and she’s spent so many summers at her house that she feels like she should be there for this one too. Her abuela asks her to help her sort out some photographs and keepsakes that she’d found in the back of a cupboard and it turns out most of them are photographs of her when she was younger, some with her abuelo who died when she was little but a lot with friends and family members that Santana’s never seen before, and she stares at them interestedly, spotting her eyes and nose on some of the faces and hanging on her abuela’s words.
Her abuela looked so much like her when she was younger that it’s actually a little creepy, and she brushes her fingers against a photograph of her and her abuelo, peering at it closely while her abuela watches her.
“We grew up together you know,” her abuela says after a moment. She smiles to herself, her eyes going distant, and Santana daren’t move in case she disturbs the moment.
“He was such a gentleman, your abuelo. Everyone always said he was such a nice young man, and all the girls were jealous because he never ever looked at them,” she smiles to herself again, remembering.
“Did you always know he was the one?” Santana asks slowly, once it becomes obvious her abuela isn’t going to say anything else, and her eyes slide over to look at her, her expression going serious.
“Always. He was the only boy I kissed, and the only one I wanted to. Not like you and your boys!” her eyes narrow and Santana looks down at her feet, feeling the colour in her cheeks. “Are you still seeing David?”
“No, abuela,” Santana says quickly, shaking her head.
Her abuela tuts. “I never liked him anyway. Sam was a much nicer young man. Maybe you see Sam again now?”
Santana shakes her head again. She wants to say something but Brittany’s name is wedged in her throat and blocking everything from coming out. She tries to swallow and just succeeds in making her breath hitch instead.
“Is there someone else you like?” her abuela asks softly, her eyes fixed on Santana’s face, and Santana nods hesitantly, just once.
“I don’t know if-if they like me back,” she says, stumbling over the pronoun a little and hoping her abuela won’t notice.
Her abuela tuts again. “He’d be a fool not to,” she reaches over and nudges Santana’s chin with her hand, smiling a little, “Mi niña hermosa.”
Santana meets her eyes and smiles, just a little.
“That’s better,” her abuela says kindly, climbing to her feet with a little bit of a groan. “Now how about some lunch?”
“Sí, abuela,” Santana glances down at the photograph in her hand one more time before following her into the kitchen.
+
Brittany calls for the first time the next day, and Santana can’t bring herself to answer. She’s texted her back a couple of times, but it’s been a while since she did, and she wonders if Brittany’s calling her to see if she’s still there.
Her thumb hovers over the answer button but she lets it go to voicemail, and after a moment her phone vibrates to signal a new message.
“Hey you,” Brittany’s voice says, “I just wanted to hear your voice but I guess you’re busy or something, so. It’s really hot here and Ash is being a brat, and I wish I was back in Lima with you or you were here with me. I just wanna hug you and never ever let go. Can I do that when I get back? I’m not gonna let go of your hand for the whole rest of the summer. I promise, okay?” She sighs, and Santana hears her swallow before she says, “I really miss you, Santana.” There’s a pause while someone says something in the background and when she comes back she’s speaks quickly. “I gotta go, honey. Text me, okay? Love you,” and then she’s gone and Santana is scrambling to hit replay as fast as she can.
It’s only an hour later when the warning beeps on her phone for low battery that she realises just how many times she’s listened to the message and she realises exactly how pathetic that is with a jolt, shaking her head at herself, and hanging up on her voicemail just before Brittany says, “Love you,” again.
She climbs off her bed to go find her charger in her desk drawer and plug her phone into the wall, Brittany’s words replaying in her head, before she curls up on her bed again, trying to make sense of it all.
+
The next day her mom has the day off, and she comes to knock on Santana’s door, this look of concern on her face.
“Mom, I’m sleeping,” Santana says, even though she’s been awake for hours now and making a half hearted attempt to look through the college brochures she’d sent for before school finished, like she had any idea of where she wanted to go.
She just kept thinking how all of these colleges didn’t have Brittany, and wondering if Brittany had started to make plans like hers too. She’d always just kind of assumed that they’d go to college together, but after everything that happened last year, and the uncertainty around them now, those plans had started to drift away and she hadn’t found a way to get them back.
“Why don’t you call one of your friends, Santana?” her mom says, crossing the room to open the shades. “You haven’t seen Quinn for a while.”
She squints against the light and doesn’t know how to tell her mom that she’s not even sure if they’re friends anymore.
“Maybe,” she says after a moment. Her mom just looks at her so she reaches for the Stanford brochure on top of the pile next to her bed and waves it at he. “I was looking at colleges.”
“Stanford?” her mom says, coming around to see. “You want to go to California?”
Santana shrugs and drops it back down. “I’m still trying to figure that out,” she says, and her mom reaches to brush some hair away from her face with a little sigh.
“What about Brittany?” she asks softly, and her eyes snap round to look at her mom, widening slightly.
“What about Brittany?” Santana echoes, feeling her heart speed up a little in her chest.
“Do you know what she wants to do?” her mom asks, and Santana knows she’s only talking about colleges but she’s gotten this conversation confused somewhere along the way so she shakes her head no, because she doesn’t know at all.
+
Her evening run takes her through Quinn’s neighbourhood and she slows down when she gets to her house, remembering the text messages that went unanswered from the last couple of days. She stretches out her legs a little and shifts her hips from side to side, glancing up at Quinn’s window to see if the light is on.
It is, and she wonders if she’d come down if she threw a rock or something against the glass, but then she isn’t sure what she’d say other than she can’t look at her phone because Brittany keeps sending her all these messages and she doesn’t know what they mean.
Sure, she cut Quinn’s hair in New York, but she’s not sure if that one act fixed everything that had gone wrong between them since the first day of school the year before, and before that, back to when Quinn was pregnant and she’d bailed and taken Brittany with her.
She scuffs her toe against the gravel on Quinn’s driveway and glances up at her window again, but it’s such a ridiculous idea that she just shakes her head and starts running back towards her house, the music loud in her ears as she tries to block everything out.
+
She falls asleep listening to music on her computer, and wakes up because Skype is chirping at her again, only this time it’s not a call. She drags herself over to her desk and blinks at the screen, reaching for her glasses and waiting for the words to come into focus.
artie?
She scoffs when she sees his message and types back quickly, it’s santana again. how hard is it to tell us apart?
his username is swagbrams so ur rite next to each other, he types back quickly. sorry. (again).
swagbrams? she types before she can stop herself. She doesn’t have him added as a friend for obvious reasons, and she doesn’t know why she finds the name so hilarious, but.
i got more comics for him, he types next and Santana feels a pang of sympathy go through her again. we can’t afford the wifi much longer. my dad needs it for job hunting.
sorry :(, she types quickly, and she means it too.
yeah so i need to find someone to buy the comics artie didn’t want. he doesn’t like dc.
She has no idea what that last part means, and she searches around for something to say that might actually help for a minute before she says, can’t you sell them to the comic book store or something, the other nerds would probably buy them.
Sam ignores the insult, and she’s actually kind of glad, just types back, i can’t carry them all to the store on my own.
Santana bites her lip, and later she’ll totally blame the fact that he caught her when she was half asleep, but i could give u a ride, she types quickly, and hits enter before giving herself a chance to second guess it.
+
She makes sure she tells her mom that she’s going to hang out with Sam, because old habits die hard, and she sees her look interested for half a second before she nods and tells her to be back for dinner, offering her a smile as Santana grabs her keys and heads for the door, wondering if her mom would ever look the same way if she said she was going to hang out with Brittany.
She drives to the motel quickly and finds Sam sitting outside the door with three boxes stacked up next to him, and he looks surprised for a second when she pulls up, like he only half believed she was going to show.
“Hey,” he says, when she climbs out and goes round to open the trunk, and she just nods when he carries the first box over and drops it inside. “Thanks for this.”
She shrugs and watches him carry another box over. “It gives me something to do.”
“I thought you’d be hanging out with Brittany or something,” he says, and she looks away, wishing he’d hurry up.
“Brittany’s in New Mexico visiting family for the month,” she says quickly, like if she says the words fast enough he won’t catch the sadness in her voice but she thinks he can tell something is up because he glances at her as he drops the last box into the trunk for just a second too long before he looks away.
“That sucks,” he says, and Santana just climbs into the driver’s seat without saying anything and waits for him to follow.
“You know where Alter Ego is, right?” he says once she’s started the engine.
“I’ve driven past it,” she says cooly, and he just nods, accepting her answer and ignoring the harshness in her voice once again.
She doesn’t know why he keeps doing that, and she glances at him out of the corners of her eyes like she’s trying to work out what he’s going to do next.
“So what have you been up to since school finished?” he asks when they’re sitting at a red light, and she just glances over at him confused.
“You don’t have to do that,” she says, pushing the car back into drive. “You’re not my best friend all of a sudden.”
“How about a friend,” Sam says when she pulls up to the curb and she stares at him like she’s never seen him before, until he shrugs and climbs out.
“Thanks for the ride,” he says, “I’ll get my comics and you can go.”
“I wasn’t gonna stick around,” she says, only it doesn’t quite come out the way it’s meant to.
+
She goes out for a run when she gets back, and her feet carry her to Brittany’s empty house without her even thinking about it, and she comes to a stop to stare up at it for a moment as she sucks in air. It looks wrong just because she knows no-one is inside, even though the house doesn’t look any different than it normally does, and she glances up at Brittany’s window out of habit, half expecting to see her hanging out of it and waving with a grin on her face, the same way she had on dozens of summer afternoons before.
She hadn’t been around so much when Brittany was dating Artie, and she wonders if that’s what’s throwing her off, like maybe Brittany’s mom cut the flowers in the yard differently, or it’s just the sight of the yard without Ashley’s bike lying in it that’s weird and not the house itself.
She just wishes Brittany would come back, because she doesn’t know how long she can deal with things being empty or not where she expects them, and she starts to run again without looking back, just so she doesn’t have to see it anymore.
+
She really needs to start turning her computer off when she goes out because when she gets back to her room, there’s another message from Sam waiting for her. She clicks over to it quickly and scans the words.
hey santana i just wanted 2 say thanx for the ride today. i sold a bunch of my books and gave the money to my folks :)
no problem trouty, she types quickly and hits enter. She pauses for a moment before she adds, it sucks that you had to sell them and waits for him to reply.
family comes first, he says, and it reminds her so much of Brittany’s speech on the last day of school that she just stares at it for a moment, remembering the way Brittany had looked at her as they’d leaned against the lockers.
anyway thanks again :) he says, pulling her from her thoughts, and disconnects before she can reply.
+
Apparently there are only so many times you can play You Oughta Know loudly in your bedroom before your mom comes to see if you’re okay, and she comes in just when Santana’s tossing her phone across the room to land on the desk with a clatter and raises her eyebrows as she stares at her.
“Arguing with someone?” she says, and Santana doesn’t know how to explain that the problem is that Brittany keeps sending her text messages that she doesn’t know how to answer and she’s starting to get angry at herself every time her phone buzzes with a new one.
“Not really,” she says and shrugs when her mom tries to get a better look at her. She doesn’t say anything else, and after a moment the silence starts to stretch, until her mom sighs and crosses her arms over her chest the same way she does.
“Are you going to spend the whole summer in your room?”
Santana rolls her eyes, “No,” she says just sort of by reflex, before she’s even worked out the rest of the lie.
“No?” her mom repeats, disbelieving. The look her mom gives her forces her to keep going.
“I’m going to see, uh, Sam,” she says, because he’s literally the first person that comes into her head, and she doesn’t even want to think about why that is just now, just climbs off the bed and grabs her purse off her desk.
“Okay,” she says, stepping aside when Santana stands and makes to move past her. “But be home for dinner.”
“Sure,” Santana says as she clomps down the stairs, and hopes that Sam will actually be in when she gets there.
+
She drives over to the motel slowly, wondering if she should even bother or just circle round the block a couple of times or go to get a cup of coffee or something. She doesn’t know if Sam will even be there, and what to say to him if he is, because it’s not like they have the sort of relationship where they go and visit each other whenever they want to.
She pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine, but doesn’t get out of the car, just sits there twisting her hands round the wheel and wondering what part of this was a good idea.
She doesn’t notice the door to his family’s room open, so she jolts when he taps on her window with his little brother on his back and smiles as he waits for her to roll the window down.
“Stevie, this is my friend Santana,” he says, like they’re just carrying on a conversation or something and she stares for a moment before she works out what to say.
“Hey Stevie,” she says quickly, and after a moment she tugs the keys out of the ignition.
“Hi,” he says quietly, peering at her over Sam’s shoulder like he doesn’t quite trust her, and Sam gives him a shake as he sets him down and watches his run back towards their room.
“So what’s up,” Sam says, only it doesn’t sound like he means what are you doing here or what do you want, and Santana glances up at him through the window, like she’s not sure she heard him right.
“My mom said I should go out,” is what comes out, and she doesn’t understand why she keeps telling him these things, but.
“And you came to see me?” he says, his voice stopping just short of mocking. “Cool.”
“We don’t have to make a big deal out of it or anything,” Santana says, huffing out a breath of air and he laughs and reaches down to open her door.
“You can help me look after my brother and sister if you want,” he says, waiting for her to make her decision and even though she doesn’t know exactly why she does it, she twirls her key around her finger once more before stuffing it in her pocket and following him inside.
part two