Sleepovers: A Secret History (2/?)
Title: Sleepovers: A Secret History (2/?)
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13 for this installment, series will probably turn out to be (at least) strong R.
Summary: Brittany and Santana are in 9th grade. Cheerios tryouts, high school party, and of course, the sleepover that follows.
Spoilers: None.
Author's Note: Its been a while since I first posted this story here, but I have been working on it, and I'm still going forward with the concept. So more sleepovers to come. ;)
(also posted at fanfiction.net under my other screenname - shamelsshussy)
Chapter 1 - 8th Grade, June
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Chapter 2 - 9th Grade, September
Bodies jostled and pushed against each other as the girls crowded up to the bulletin board. In the crush, Santana couldn’t see. Someone’s ponytail got in her mouth; she spluttered and shoved.
Brittney was taller. She was able to see an opening and slide a long leg through, bumping girls out of the way with her hips. When she was in front, she threw a quick elbow to the girl next to her, giving Santana an opportunity to squeeze through too.
There were two lists up on the board, Varsity and JV.
“Screw JV” Santana muttered, and scanned the Varsity list. Down to L in the alphabetical list. Lopez, Santana. A flutter in her stomach, and then a knot, for just a second, until she scanned further and found Pierce, Brittany.
Santana felt Brittany’s hand in hers, squeezing. She let herself be dragged to the edge of the crowd. Once they had more space, Brittany swept her up into a spinning hug.
“We’re gonna look so hot in our uniforms.” Brittany’s mouth was right at Santana’s ear, and her voice set the skin there buzzing.
Quinn bounded over, and even Santana was glad to see her. She disentangled herself from Brittany and met Quinn’s high five. “Varsity, bitches!”
“What about Courtney?” Brittany looked around for her.
“JV.” Quinn pointed to a glum clump of girls on the other side of the gym.
Some of the girls who hadn’t made either team were openly bawling.
Coach Sylvester raised a megaphone. “Crybabies, out!”
The sniffling girls moved toward the locker room. “I look forward to passing you in the halls without the slightest hint of recognition.” Coach called after them.
“JV, over there with Coach Pine. I don’t care about you.”
Coach smiled at the girls who were still left in front of her. “Varsity squad, take a seat. The winning begins now.”
*
An hour later, Quinn, Santana and Brittany walked out of the gym together, in their first custom fitted Cheerios uniforms.
“Those seamstresses were really…”
“Hey freshbitches.” Morgan came up behind them, interrupting Quinn. Quinn’s hands flew to her ponytail, tightening it, trying to get it as high as Morgan’s.
“Sash and I are doing our co-capitain duty and hosting a little party tonight, Varsity Cheerios and Varsity Football. My house, nine. Uniforms mandatory. Sash’ll text you the address.”
Behind Morgan, Sara-Ashely pushed send on her phone, and Santana, Quinn and Brittany heard theirs buzz and twing.
Morgan walked off toward the parking lot, flashing them a tight smile. Sash shot them a smile too, a much nicer one, and waved as she slipped into the passenger seat of Morgan’s black SUV.
Brittany dug her phone out of a side pocket of her new Cheerios gym bag. The address was a few blocks away from her house.
“Wanna sleep over after the party?”
Santana nodded immediately. “Party tonight, blueberry pancakes in the morning!” She bounced a little in her sneakers. The second weekend of her high school career was shaping up to be severely awesome.
“I can’t. Church early tomorrow.” Quinn said.
Brittany pouted, but Santana didn’t exactly mind.
Brittany’s mom pulled up, waving excitedly at the sight of their uniforms.
“You guys need a ride?”
Santana moved toward the car, but Quinn stopped her. “We can drop you, its closer.”
“Ok, well, come over before, we can get dressed.” Brittany pulled Quinn into a quick hug, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “This is gonna be so cool. ”
Her next kiss slipped a little and landed more on the side of Santana’s mouth than on her cheek.
Santana batted at Brittany’s ponytail. “See you later.”
They walked over to the party. It was only a few blocks from Brittany’s to Morgan’s. The first chill of fall was creeping in, and their bare legs broke out in goosebumps.
They ran into Finn on the front lawn.
“Quinn!” He waved his ridiculously long arms, like they couldn’t see him right there.
Brittany leaned in close to Santana and whispered, “Is he so loud because his head’s so big?”
Finn was wearing his new varsity football jersey.
“...second string, but still...”
Quinn slid a hand up Finn’s bicep as they walked into the party together.
Santana rolled her eyes, but kept quiet. If Quinn wanted to waste her time with the same boys they had known forever, that was her business,
Just inside the front door, the party wasn’t quite raging yet. A few kids were clustered here and there, messing with the stereo, looking for the liquor cabinet. Some sophomore Cheerios were dancing, and Brittany moved to join them, pulling Santana along.
But Santana knew that the road to the top of the pyramid didn’t start girls like that. She spotted some older guys over by a keg in the kitchen. Guys with much better arms than Finn.
“Let’s get beers.”
“Beer makes me burp too much.”
“Well, just hold it then. Unless you want to join Quinn’s little purity party over there?”
Quinn had Finn and some of the other freshman in a corner already, the corner farthest from the keg.
Brittany shook her head no. Santana linked her left pinky through Brittany’s right and led her into the kitchen.
“Hey.” Santana nodded at the three guys clustered around the keg. One was tall and thin with a close blond buzz cut, another was shorter and stockier, with caramel skin a little darker than Santana’s and striking green eyes. The last guy was Puck. Santana knew him, he was in Brittany’s 3rd period math.
Brittany didn’t say anything. She cast a shy glance around, her blue eyes shaded by those long blonde lashes.
Santana couldn’t laugh out loud, but gave her a pinky squeeze. Brittany was so good at snowing guys with that adorable bashful act.
“Hey.” Puck got busy filling a cup with beer. He handed the first one to Santana and then a second to Brittany. They took them with their free hands. Santana swung her inside arm a little, and Brittany’s came with her, still holding her pinky. Their movement ruffled the pleats of their cheer skirts.
“You’re in my math.” Brittany said to Puck.
Santana took a sip of beer, then flicked her tongue over her upper lip, catching the foam. “Yeah, what’s your deal, are you in 9th or 10th or what?”
Puck’s gaze was trained on Santana’s mouth. “Ninth.”
The blonde guy grinned and shoved him. “Again.”
“Can you drive?”
“Permit. License in December.”
“Awesome. You can talk to me again in December.” Santana turned to face the tall blonde boy.
“You’re a junior, right?”
Puck pounded the rest of his beer, but out of the corner of her eye Santana could still see him blush. The tips of his ears matched the red of his oversized Solo cup.
Brittany let go of Santana’s hand and stuck her index finger into the beer foam. She licked it off.
“Dude!” The green eyed boy shoved Puck this time.
“What?...Oh. Brittany, Santana,” Puck waved a vague hand in the air. “Harris, Alex.” He tried once more to catch Santana’s eye, but she was already busy.
“Want a tattoo?” She had found a marker on the counter, and was eyeing Alex’s bicep.
Puck walked off into the crowd.
When the tattoo was done, Alex flexed, Santana giggled.
“Want a real drink?” He pulled a flask out of his back pocket.
Santana glanced up, looking for Brittany, but she was a few feet away, dragging Harris over to the dance floor. She bit the inside of her check and hesitated for a second. But when she turned back to Alex, she turned her bright smile back on too.
“Sure.”
*
A few hours later, the party had come alive. The living room, kitchen and back deck were crowded with kids, dancing, drinking spilling beer. Everyone was loud and sweaty.
But even from all the way across the room, Brittany could tell that Santana was the wrong color. Her skin, a warm burnished copper from a summer spent in the sun, had faded. She looked sallow, greenish.
“Mmmph.” Harris swooped in for another kiss, but Brittany pushed back against his chest and slid off of his lap.
He tried to keep hold of her hand, but he was too fast and he was too full of beer. His hand fumbled at the pleats in her cheer skirt, grazed a satisfying patch of thigh, but then she was gone.
“What the…” He mumbled to himself. He spied a full cup of beer on the coffee table, and reached out for it, sipped it, didn’t bother to wonder whose it was. He watched Brittany cross the room, nimbly dodging around the stumbling jocks in her way, and kneel down in front of Santana. Santana was in a recliner with Alex, his hands roaming, her head lolling against his chest.
“Santana?”
With some effort, Santana raised her eyes. When she saw Brittany, she perked up considerably.
“Brittany!” Santana launched herself out of the chair, at Brittany, arms open for a hug.
Brittany caught her, falling back on her heels under Santana’s weight. Together, they tumbled to the floor.
In the chair, above them, Alex laughed.
Brittany ignored him. She stayed on the floor, Santana sprawled across her body.
“San?” She wriggled, trying to get a look at Santana’s face. “Are you feeling ok?”
Santana snuggled into Brittany’s side, tucking her head between Brittany’s shoulder and chin.
“Shyeah. I feel awesome.”
She hiccupped and Brittany felt the jolt against her own ribs.
“I’m making out with that guy. Adam.”
Alex peered down at them. “Alex,” he corrected.
“Whatever. He’s hot. I’m hot.” Santana petted Brittany’s cheek, slid her fingers over her lips and nose. “You’re hot.” She hiccupped again.
Alex, still hanging over the side of the recliner, piped up. “It’d be totally hot if you two made out.”
“Nnnm” Santana mumbled.
Brittany struggled out from under her and sat up.
Santana tried to sit up too, but reeled and crumpled back down to the floor.
“She’s wasted.” Alex snickered.
“Brit. I think I’m gonna…”
Brittany didn’t wait for her to finish. She stood up, pulling Santana with her, and led her quickly through the kitchen, through the back door, out into the cool September evening.
Just in time, Santana leaned out over the deck railing and vomited in to the bushes below.
Whoops and shouts went up from a table of Cheerios sitting at the other end of the deck.
“Poor baby freshmeat!”
Quinn peeled away from the group of older girls and joined Brittany and Santana.
“Is she ok?”
Santana retched again, but nothing came. She leaned her forehead on the railing. Brittany reached out to smooth back the wisps of hair that had escaped from Santana’s ponytail.
“We should take her home.”
Santana gulped air, focused hard, and leaned out over the railing again. She managed this time. When she was done, she spit twice, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
She was glad for the dark. She could feel her cheeks flame with a hot, embarrassed flush.
She stood up straight, cautiously keeping a hand on the railing. But she found she didn’t need it. The world wasn’t spinning quite as much as it had been a few minutes ago.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’ll get Finn” Quinn saw Santana’s scowl. “Just in case you...we...need help.”
“Meet you in front.” Santana wasn’t about to walk through that party, see that Alex kid again.
Quinn nodded and headed back inside.
“Are you ok to wait here for a minute?” Brittany asked.
“Sure, yeah, I’m fine now.”
Brittany slipped back through the kitchen door. Less than a minute later, she was back, a cold can of diet coke in her hands.
She handed it to Santana. “For your tummy.”
Santana smiled and gratefully accepted the soda. She popped the can’s tab and took a big gulp, trying the chase the sour taste from her mouth.
Brittany reached out her right hand to take Santana’s left. She led her toward the stairs that led down to the lawn.
They had to pass the table of Cheerios. As they passed, Morgan stood up, and came around from the far side of the table. “You go hardcore Lopez.” She wasn’t smiling.
Santana bit her bottom lip, breathed deep. “At least she knows my name.” Santana thought to herself.
Sash joined Morgan, slipping an arm around her waist.
“Sorry about the bushes.” Santana mumbled.
Morgan studied Santana for a moment, her lips pursed, clearly rolling an insult around on her tongue. But Sash pulled her closer. Santana saw her fingers dip just under the waistband of Morgan’s skirt, stroke the skin at her hip.
Santana saw it in slow motion. Her tongue felt large and sloppy in her mouth. She realized she was still pretty drunk, took a sip of diet coke.
“Take two Advils before bed.” Sash was saying. “Then you won’t have a headache tomorrow.”
All Morgan said was “See you at practice,” and turned back to the crowd, Sash still close against her.
*
Around the front of the house, Brittany and Santana met Quinn and Finn.
“Quinn and Finn!” Santana giggled hysterically. Now that the roiling feeling in her stomach had subsided, the warm, careless part of drinking was back.
Brittany cracked up. “Quinn and Finn! Quinn and Finn!”
Finn turned to Quinn. “Is she drunk too?”
“I don’t think…”
Brittany jumped up and down to keep warm. “I only had one beer. It’s just funny. You rhyme.”
Without a word, Santana walked off, still giggling, in the direction of Brittany’s house. Brittany bounced along behind her. Finn and Quinn followed more slowly, Finn ducking his head. But Quinn could see his goofy half smile anyway.
Finn thought about trying to take Quinn’s hand. But then he imagined what Santana might say if she saw, and thought the better of it.
Half a block ahead, Santana was making a running leap onto Brittany’s back, demanding a piggy back ride.
“They’re lunatics.” Quinn whispered to Finn, happiness evident in her voice.
*
It took almost 20 minutes to reach Brittany’s house. She only lived four blocks away from Morgan, but they had to stop more than once.
Brittany was carrying Santana, piggy back style, her hands holding on to Santana’s thighs. With access like that, she couldn’t keep from tickling the backs of Santana’s knees, which made Santana squirm and tickle back, which made Brittany laugh and stumble, which made them both lurch and tumble.
The third time they spilled over onto someone’s lawn, Quinn separated them, pulling Brittany around to her right side and keeping Santana on her left. But Brittany and Santana just reached around her to nudge and poke at each other, not too mindful that they were also nudging and poking at Quinn in the process.
Quinn tried to keep a straight face, but after a few steps she had to retaliate. An all out tickle fight broke out on the sidewalk.
Finn was a few steps behind them, watching. A wide smile spread across his face. He bounded forward and wrapped his gangly arms around all three girls.
“Group hug!”
Quinn giggled, Brittany hugged back, hard.
Santana immediately squirmed and shoved, but since she was the smallest, she couldn’t make much headway in freeing herself. Instead, she snaked a skinny arm through the crush and managed to wrap a hand around Finn’s forearm. She dug her nails in.
“Ow!” He let go, jumped back.
He cradled his right arm in his left hand, running his thumb over the marks Santana had left. Even in the dim street light, he could see the half-moons her nails had dug into his skin.
“That’s what you get for sexually harassing us.”
“I wasn’t sexually…”
“Hey! It’s my house!” Brittany let out a happy shriek.
Quinn shushed her. “Its after midnight Brit.”
“It’s my house!” Brittany whispered, grinning at Quinn.
Santana and Brittany started down the front path, but Quinn hung back. “It’s late….I should get home...”
“I can walk you!” Finn’s voice came out almost as loud as Brittany’s had been.
Quinn smiled up at him.
“Okay.”
He forgot all about Santana mauling his arm.
“Okay.” Finn echoed.
Santana looked at Quinn, then Finn, then back again.
“Okay, okay” she mimicked, sending Brittany into yet another fit of giggles. “You dorks deserve each other.”
She spun on her heel, her skirt ruffling out around her.
“C’mon B.”
She grabbed Brittany’s hand and they pelted up the walk to Brittany’s front door.
“’Night dorks!”
*
Brittany and Santana burst through into the nighttime hush of Brittany’s house. They stumbled over each other’s feet in the dark of the front hall. Brittany held in a whoop of laughter, and it became a snort instead. Santana snickered. Before they could quiet down, Brittany’s mother appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Hi girls.”
“Hi mama,” Brittany answered, beaming up at her mother.
“Hi Anna.” Santana kept her voice soft, and hid behind Brittany a little. She really hoped Brittany’s mother couldn’t smell the rum and the vomit all the way at the top of the stairs.
“Did you have fun?”
They nodded in unison.
Anna smiled. “I’m glad.” She yawned. “Sleepy, but glad. If you want a snack, there’s still the rest of the apple crisp.”
Santana poked Brittany. “Ask her”
“What?”
“Ask her.”
“Ask her what?”
Anna broke in. “Yes Santana. We have blueberries for tomorrow morning.”
“Yay!” It was too loud. Santana clapped a hand over her mouth.
But Anna was still smiling. “Just dial it down a little. Christina is sleeping.”
“We will. I promise.” Santana whispered.
“Goodnight mama.”
Anna rejoined her husband in bed, a small smile lingering on her lips.
He turned off The Daily Show. “Brittany ok?”
She nodded, snuggling up to him. “She’s brilliant. Geniusly happy.”
He wrapped his arms around his wife.
“That’s my girl.”
*
“Can I take a shower? I feel kinda gross from puking.”
“Yeah, use the downstairs bathroom.”
The upstairs bathroom was right next to Chrissy’s room. Santana suspected that a midnight shower waking up her five year-old would test even Anna’s patience.
“There’s no big towels down here. I”ll get one. And your pjs and stuff.” Brittany tiptoed up the stairs, as quietly as she could manage.
Santana made her way to the bathroom downstairs. She didn’t need to turn on any lights along the way. When she flicked the switch in the bathroom, the bright light made her vision swim, reminded her that she was still a little tipsy.
It was cold. She hurried to turn on the shower, cranking the tap as far as it would go to the hot side.
She undressed while she waited for the water to warm up. She kicked off her shoes, but left her socks on, not wanting to feel the chill of the tile floor on her bare feet until it was absolutely necessary. She undid the fastener on her skirt, slipped the zipper down, and let it fall. Her fingers felt for the hidden zipper in the left seam of her Cheerios top. She found the tab and pulled up, then grabbed the hem and lifted the shirt over her head.
She turned to the full length mirror on the back of the door. Her red spanx came up high on her waist, almost to her belly-button. She folded them down until she could see the tops of her hipbones. Her eyes tracked over the lines of her body in the mirror.
Coach Sylvester had put them through a week of punishing drills at cheer clinic before tryouts, and Santana could see the work had already cut a little definition into the smooth curve of her belly. Her legs were a little stronger too.
She turned slightly, and pushed up onto her tiptoes, watched her profile in the mirror. The long muscles in her thighs and calves shifted and she liked the effect. She could see the beginnings of a super cute ass in the making, and resolved to try to hate Coach’s sets of lunges and squats a little bit less.
She fell back down to her flat feet, turned back to face the mirror. She watched herself run a hand over her abdomen, up to her rib cage, and poke a little at the spaces between her ribs. Her boobs were still a problem.
She reached behind and unhooked the clasp of her bra and tossed it to the side. Her breasts were pale, the tan line from her favorite bikini top evident.
She chewed the inside of her lower lip. Her boobs were the same size at least; Courtney’s were weirdly lopsided.
Santana scrunched her nose at her reflection. Not big enough.
She remembered Morgan demonstrating jumps for them that week, wearing only her sports bra and boy shorts.
Yeah…definitely not big enough.
The room was warmer now, steam curling out from behind the shower curtain. Santana slipped out of her spanx and socks and stuck a hand into the running water. She pulled back immediately, scalded.
She adjusted the temperature, checked again, then stepped in.
Santana was lathering her hair when Brittany came in a few minutes later. She couldn’t see her through the opaque shower curtain, but she saw her shadow moving around the bathroom.
Brittany had changed into a tank top and loose drawstring pants. She laid a big, fluffy towel down on the closed toilet seat, in easy reach for Santana. She put Santana’s boxers and a t-shirt on the counter, laid her toothbrush on top.
“I didn’t find a shirt in your bag. I brought you one of mine.”
Santana didn’t say anything, busy rinsing the suds out of her long hair.
Brittany sank down, sat cross-legged on the bathmat in front of the sink, her back against the cabinets of the vanity.
“Finn and Quinn are cute. They should go out.”
In the shower, Santana poured more shampoo out onto her hand. She lathered her hair a second time.
“Finn’s a doofus. Quinn should go out with someone cool.”
“Oh,” Brittany picked at her cuticles. “Those guys we hooked up with tonight were cool.” She looked up at Santana’s outline behind the shower curtain. “Right?”
Santana finished rinsing her hair for the second time. “Yeah. Well. They’re first string.” She picked up what she thought was conditioner, but realized it was another bottle of shampoo. “Do you have conditioner?”
“Yep, wait.” Brittany turned around and opened the cabinets under the sink. She sorted through a few bottles of body wash and shampoo, picked out a bottle of conditioner.
She stood up, moved closer, held the bottle out to Santana. Santana reached a wet arm out from behind the shower curtain to take it and dripped warm water on Brittany’s bare feet.
Brittany moved back to the sink, stood in front of the fogged up mirror.
“That guy Harris asked me for my number.”
Santana ran her fingers through her thick hair, working the conditioner all the way to the ends. Alex hadn’t asked for her number, so she didn’t say anything back.
Brittany wrote Santana’s name in the mist on the mirror. She studied her handiwork,
then added hearts for decoration. “Do you think he’ll ask me on a date? Like, a real date?”
Brittany suspected a high school date would be better than eighth grade dates had been. Eighth grade dates involved people’s mom’s dropping you off at the movie theater and were severely limited by how far you could stretch an eighth grade allowance.
Santana rinsed her hair a last time. “Of course he will, you’re awesome.”
Brittany shrugged. “There’s a lot of pretty girls in Cheerios.”
“We’re the prettiest new girls.”
“And Quinn.” Brittany added.
“And Quinn.” Santana couldn’t deny that.
“Who do you think is the prettiest?”
“Of me, you and Quinn? You. Your eyes...” She stopped short, realizing her mistake. “You meant of the other girls.”
Brittany leaned over the sink. With her index finger, she filled in one of the hearts she had drawn, revealing a larger patch of the mirror.
She leaned in close and looked into her own eyes. Blue and gold wove together close in by the iris, darkening to gray toward at the outer ring of the pupil. Brittany blinked and looked again, but she didn’t see what Santana meant.
Brittany turned from the mirror, leaning back against the sink. “Yeah, the seniors and all. Morgan and Sarah-Ashley are so...”
Santana didn’t hear the end of Brittany’s sentence. She had closed her eyes and ducked her head back under the water. She thought of Sash’s fingers on Morgan’s hip. She pressed her own fingers there, on her own skin.
Her stomach jumped. But not like before, when she had been sick. Not like that at all.
Santana opened her eyes and moved to turn off the shower, then hesitated. She watched Brittany’s shadow on the curtain. She stalled, tucked her chin in toward her chest, felt the warm water rain down on the back of her neck and shoulders.
Brittany hopped down off of the counter. “I’m gonna get a soda. Do you want anything?”
“I’m kind of hungry…but I don’t …”
“Surprise snack!”
Santana grinned. “Ok, but nothing too gross.”
Santana heard the door shut behind Brittany and turned off the water. She squeezed as much water out of her hair as she could, reached out for the towel and stepped out on to bathmat, wrapped it around herself.
She stood still for a minute, enjoying the lazy loose feeling of her body. She wondered how many sips from Alex’s flask it would have taken to keep her in this zone of tipsy, how many made the giggling fits they’d had on the walk home, which sip was the one that had pushed her over into sloppy and sick.
Next time she’d try to count, find the formulas.
She patted her body dry and pulled on the shorts and t-shirt that Brittany had left. It was an old camp t-shirt of Brittany’s, faded and soft, “Arden Lake” in red letters that had peeled and cracked and looked so hipster retro now.
“I’m totally stealing this” Santana said to her reflection.
On the mirror, she saw her own name, wreathed in hearts, melting in the fading fog.
*
In the kitchen, Brittany chugged half a can of Dr. Pepper, then got to work making Santana’s snack. She pulled a bag of pretzel sticks out of the cabinet, poured some into a bowl. She rummaged through drawers until she found an unopened bag of peanut M&Ms, tore it open, dumped that on top of the pretzels. She stirred with her fingers.
“What else?”
Her eye fell on the bag of candy her mom had bought in preparation for Halloween.
”Ooh! Dots!”
A few minutes later, Santana padded into the kitchen but Brittany didn’t notice; she was intent on her creation, garnishing the bowl with a few ridged potato chips.
Santan tiptoed up behind her, snuck an arm by Brittany’s waist and snagged a chip out of the bowl.
“Hey! I was making that fancy!”
Santana reached around again and grabbed a handful this time. She picked out the Dots to save for later and chomped down on a mouthful of pretzels and chocolate. “Mmph.”
Brittany turned around. Santana didn’t step back. Their bare toes were close to touching.
“Are you still drunk?”
Santana swallowed. Brittany offered her a sip of Dr. Pepper and she took it.
“Just a tiny buzz now.”
Brittany’s loose pajama pants had slipped down below her belly button. Santana reached out until her thumb and forefinger grazed the skin at Brittany’s hip, something between a pinch and a caress.
Brittany tilted her head but her expression didn’t change. Her mouth was closed, her breathing even, her eyes steady on Santana’s face. She brushed the toes of her right foot against Santana’s left ankle.
“Let’s watch The Little Mermaid.”
They moved apart. Santana picked up the bowl of snacks, Brittany grabbed two more cans of Dr. Pepper.
They didn’t talk again for some time. In the den, they settled down on the couch and Brittany pressed play on the DVR remote. Santana picked out the red Dots from the bowl and ate those. Prince Eric commented that it was a perfect day to be at sea.
Brittany realized that today - Cheerios, parties, boys - would be the new normal. “It’s so weird that we know all these new people all of a sudden.”
“Thank god. I was getting pretty sick of the old ones.”
Santana put aside the candy for a minute and pulled a fleece blanket off the arm of the couch, unfolded it, offered Brittany one end.
Brittany pulled the blanket over her lap and moved closer to Santana. The part with the shark was coming.
It came. Brittany stifled a shriek and threw an arm around Santana’s waist, buried her face in her shoulder.
Santana smelled like soap and sugar.
Brittany lifted her head a little, placed a quick kiss under Sanatana’s chin.
“You’re still my favorite.”
*
In the morning, Anna found them in the den. Santana’s drool had made a wet patch on Brittany’s tank top.
Anna picked up the empty soda cans.
“Girls,” she called softly. “Pancakes.”
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13 for this installment, series will probably turn out to be (at least) strong R.
Summary: Brittany and Santana are in 9th grade. Cheerios tryouts, high school party, and of course, the sleepover that follows.
Spoilers: None.
Author's Note: Its been a while since I first posted this story here, but I have been working on it, and I'm still going forward with the concept. So more sleepovers to come. ;)
(also posted at fanfiction.net under my other screenname - shamelsshussy)
Chapter 1 - 8th Grade, June
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Chapter 2 - 9th Grade, September
Bodies jostled and pushed against each other as the girls crowded up to the bulletin board. In the crush, Santana couldn’t see. Someone’s ponytail got in her mouth; she spluttered and shoved.
Brittney was taller. She was able to see an opening and slide a long leg through, bumping girls out of the way with her hips. When she was in front, she threw a quick elbow to the girl next to her, giving Santana an opportunity to squeeze through too.
There were two lists up on the board, Varsity and JV.
“Screw JV” Santana muttered, and scanned the Varsity list. Down to L in the alphabetical list. Lopez, Santana. A flutter in her stomach, and then a knot, for just a second, until she scanned further and found Pierce, Brittany.
Santana felt Brittany’s hand in hers, squeezing. She let herself be dragged to the edge of the crowd. Once they had more space, Brittany swept her up into a spinning hug.
“We’re gonna look so hot in our uniforms.” Brittany’s mouth was right at Santana’s ear, and her voice set the skin there buzzing.
Quinn bounded over, and even Santana was glad to see her. She disentangled herself from Brittany and met Quinn’s high five. “Varsity, bitches!”
“What about Courtney?” Brittany looked around for her.
“JV.” Quinn pointed to a glum clump of girls on the other side of the gym.
Some of the girls who hadn’t made either team were openly bawling.
Coach Sylvester raised a megaphone. “Crybabies, out!”
The sniffling girls moved toward the locker room. “I look forward to passing you in the halls without the slightest hint of recognition.” Coach called after them.
“JV, over there with Coach Pine. I don’t care about you.”
Coach smiled at the girls who were still left in front of her. “Varsity squad, take a seat. The winning begins now.”
*
An hour later, Quinn, Santana and Brittany walked out of the gym together, in their first custom fitted Cheerios uniforms.
“Those seamstresses were really…”
“Hey freshbitches.” Morgan came up behind them, interrupting Quinn. Quinn’s hands flew to her ponytail, tightening it, trying to get it as high as Morgan’s.
“Sash and I are doing our co-capitain duty and hosting a little party tonight, Varsity Cheerios and Varsity Football. My house, nine. Uniforms mandatory. Sash’ll text you the address.”
Behind Morgan, Sara-Ashely pushed send on her phone, and Santana, Quinn and Brittany heard theirs buzz and twing.
Morgan walked off toward the parking lot, flashing them a tight smile. Sash shot them a smile too, a much nicer one, and waved as she slipped into the passenger seat of Morgan’s black SUV.
Brittany dug her phone out of a side pocket of her new Cheerios gym bag. The address was a few blocks away from her house.
“Wanna sleep over after the party?”
Santana nodded immediately. “Party tonight, blueberry pancakes in the morning!” She bounced a little in her sneakers. The second weekend of her high school career was shaping up to be severely awesome.
“I can’t. Church early tomorrow.” Quinn said.
Brittany pouted, but Santana didn’t exactly mind.
Brittany’s mom pulled up, waving excitedly at the sight of their uniforms.
“You guys need a ride?”
Santana moved toward the car, but Quinn stopped her. “We can drop you, its closer.”
“Ok, well, come over before, we can get dressed.” Brittany pulled Quinn into a quick hug, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “This is gonna be so cool. ”
Her next kiss slipped a little and landed more on the side of Santana’s mouth than on her cheek.
Santana batted at Brittany’s ponytail. “See you later.”
They walked over to the party. It was only a few blocks from Brittany’s to Morgan’s. The first chill of fall was creeping in, and their bare legs broke out in goosebumps.
They ran into Finn on the front lawn.
“Quinn!” He waved his ridiculously long arms, like they couldn’t see him right there.
Brittany leaned in close to Santana and whispered, “Is he so loud because his head’s so big?”
Finn was wearing his new varsity football jersey.
“...second string, but still...”
Quinn slid a hand up Finn’s bicep as they walked into the party together.
Santana rolled her eyes, but kept quiet. If Quinn wanted to waste her time with the same boys they had known forever, that was her business,
Just inside the front door, the party wasn’t quite raging yet. A few kids were clustered here and there, messing with the stereo, looking for the liquor cabinet. Some sophomore Cheerios were dancing, and Brittany moved to join them, pulling Santana along.
But Santana knew that the road to the top of the pyramid didn’t start girls like that. She spotted some older guys over by a keg in the kitchen. Guys with much better arms than Finn.
“Let’s get beers.”
“Beer makes me burp too much.”
“Well, just hold it then. Unless you want to join Quinn’s little purity party over there?”
Quinn had Finn and some of the other freshman in a corner already, the corner farthest from the keg.
Brittany shook her head no. Santana linked her left pinky through Brittany’s right and led her into the kitchen.
“Hey.” Santana nodded at the three guys clustered around the keg. One was tall and thin with a close blond buzz cut, another was shorter and stockier, with caramel skin a little darker than Santana’s and striking green eyes. The last guy was Puck. Santana knew him, he was in Brittany’s 3rd period math.
Brittany didn’t say anything. She cast a shy glance around, her blue eyes shaded by those long blonde lashes.
Santana couldn’t laugh out loud, but gave her a pinky squeeze. Brittany was so good at snowing guys with that adorable bashful act.
“Hey.” Puck got busy filling a cup with beer. He handed the first one to Santana and then a second to Brittany. They took them with their free hands. Santana swung her inside arm a little, and Brittany’s came with her, still holding her pinky. Their movement ruffled the pleats of their cheer skirts.
“You’re in my math.” Brittany said to Puck.
Santana took a sip of beer, then flicked her tongue over her upper lip, catching the foam. “Yeah, what’s your deal, are you in 9th or 10th or what?”
Puck’s gaze was trained on Santana’s mouth. “Ninth.”
The blonde guy grinned and shoved him. “Again.”
“Can you drive?”
“Permit. License in December.”
“Awesome. You can talk to me again in December.” Santana turned to face the tall blonde boy.
“You’re a junior, right?”
Puck pounded the rest of his beer, but out of the corner of her eye Santana could still see him blush. The tips of his ears matched the red of his oversized Solo cup.
Brittany let go of Santana’s hand and stuck her index finger into the beer foam. She licked it off.
“Dude!” The green eyed boy shoved Puck this time.
“What?...Oh. Brittany, Santana,” Puck waved a vague hand in the air. “Harris, Alex.” He tried once more to catch Santana’s eye, but she was already busy.
“Want a tattoo?” She had found a marker on the counter, and was eyeing Alex’s bicep.
Puck walked off into the crowd.
When the tattoo was done, Alex flexed, Santana giggled.
“Want a real drink?” He pulled a flask out of his back pocket.
Santana glanced up, looking for Brittany, but she was a few feet away, dragging Harris over to the dance floor. She bit the inside of her check and hesitated for a second. But when she turned back to Alex, she turned her bright smile back on too.
“Sure.”
*
A few hours later, the party had come alive. The living room, kitchen and back deck were crowded with kids, dancing, drinking spilling beer. Everyone was loud and sweaty.
But even from all the way across the room, Brittany could tell that Santana was the wrong color. Her skin, a warm burnished copper from a summer spent in the sun, had faded. She looked sallow, greenish.
“Mmmph.” Harris swooped in for another kiss, but Brittany pushed back against his chest and slid off of his lap.
He tried to keep hold of her hand, but he was too fast and he was too full of beer. His hand fumbled at the pleats in her cheer skirt, grazed a satisfying patch of thigh, but then she was gone.
“What the…” He mumbled to himself. He spied a full cup of beer on the coffee table, and reached out for it, sipped it, didn’t bother to wonder whose it was. He watched Brittany cross the room, nimbly dodging around the stumbling jocks in her way, and kneel down in front of Santana. Santana was in a recliner with Alex, his hands roaming, her head lolling against his chest.
“Santana?”
With some effort, Santana raised her eyes. When she saw Brittany, she perked up considerably.
“Brittany!” Santana launched herself out of the chair, at Brittany, arms open for a hug.
Brittany caught her, falling back on her heels under Santana’s weight. Together, they tumbled to the floor.
In the chair, above them, Alex laughed.
Brittany ignored him. She stayed on the floor, Santana sprawled across her body.
“San?” She wriggled, trying to get a look at Santana’s face. “Are you feeling ok?”
Santana snuggled into Brittany’s side, tucking her head between Brittany’s shoulder and chin.
“Shyeah. I feel awesome.”
She hiccupped and Brittany felt the jolt against her own ribs.
“I’m making out with that guy. Adam.”
Alex peered down at them. “Alex,” he corrected.
“Whatever. He’s hot. I’m hot.” Santana petted Brittany’s cheek, slid her fingers over her lips and nose. “You’re hot.” She hiccupped again.
Alex, still hanging over the side of the recliner, piped up. “It’d be totally hot if you two made out.”
“Nnnm” Santana mumbled.
Brittany struggled out from under her and sat up.
Santana tried to sit up too, but reeled and crumpled back down to the floor.
“She’s wasted.” Alex snickered.
“Brit. I think I’m gonna…”
Brittany didn’t wait for her to finish. She stood up, pulling Santana with her, and led her quickly through the kitchen, through the back door, out into the cool September evening.
Just in time, Santana leaned out over the deck railing and vomited in to the bushes below.
Whoops and shouts went up from a table of Cheerios sitting at the other end of the deck.
“Poor baby freshmeat!”
Quinn peeled away from the group of older girls and joined Brittany and Santana.
“Is she ok?”
Santana retched again, but nothing came. She leaned her forehead on the railing. Brittany reached out to smooth back the wisps of hair that had escaped from Santana’s ponytail.
“We should take her home.”
Santana gulped air, focused hard, and leaned out over the railing again. She managed this time. When she was done, she spit twice, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
She was glad for the dark. She could feel her cheeks flame with a hot, embarrassed flush.
She stood up straight, cautiously keeping a hand on the railing. But she found she didn’t need it. The world wasn’t spinning quite as much as it had been a few minutes ago.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’ll get Finn” Quinn saw Santana’s scowl. “Just in case you...we...need help.”
“Meet you in front.” Santana wasn’t about to walk through that party, see that Alex kid again.
Quinn nodded and headed back inside.
“Are you ok to wait here for a minute?” Brittany asked.
“Sure, yeah, I’m fine now.”
Brittany slipped back through the kitchen door. Less than a minute later, she was back, a cold can of diet coke in her hands.
She handed it to Santana. “For your tummy.”
Santana smiled and gratefully accepted the soda. She popped the can’s tab and took a big gulp, trying the chase the sour taste from her mouth.
Brittany reached out her right hand to take Santana’s left. She led her toward the stairs that led down to the lawn.
They had to pass the table of Cheerios. As they passed, Morgan stood up, and came around from the far side of the table. “You go hardcore Lopez.” She wasn’t smiling.
Santana bit her bottom lip, breathed deep. “At least she knows my name.” Santana thought to herself.
Sash joined Morgan, slipping an arm around her waist.
“Sorry about the bushes.” Santana mumbled.
Morgan studied Santana for a moment, her lips pursed, clearly rolling an insult around on her tongue. But Sash pulled her closer. Santana saw her fingers dip just under the waistband of Morgan’s skirt, stroke the skin at her hip.
Santana saw it in slow motion. Her tongue felt large and sloppy in her mouth. She realized she was still pretty drunk, took a sip of diet coke.
“Take two Advils before bed.” Sash was saying. “Then you won’t have a headache tomorrow.”
All Morgan said was “See you at practice,” and turned back to the crowd, Sash still close against her.
*
Around the front of the house, Brittany and Santana met Quinn and Finn.
“Quinn and Finn!” Santana giggled hysterically. Now that the roiling feeling in her stomach had subsided, the warm, careless part of drinking was back.
Brittany cracked up. “Quinn and Finn! Quinn and Finn!”
Finn turned to Quinn. “Is she drunk too?”
“I don’t think…”
Brittany jumped up and down to keep warm. “I only had one beer. It’s just funny. You rhyme.”
Without a word, Santana walked off, still giggling, in the direction of Brittany’s house. Brittany bounced along behind her. Finn and Quinn followed more slowly, Finn ducking his head. But Quinn could see his goofy half smile anyway.
Finn thought about trying to take Quinn’s hand. But then he imagined what Santana might say if she saw, and thought the better of it.
Half a block ahead, Santana was making a running leap onto Brittany’s back, demanding a piggy back ride.
“They’re lunatics.” Quinn whispered to Finn, happiness evident in her voice.
*
It took almost 20 minutes to reach Brittany’s house. She only lived four blocks away from Morgan, but they had to stop more than once.
Brittany was carrying Santana, piggy back style, her hands holding on to Santana’s thighs. With access like that, she couldn’t keep from tickling the backs of Santana’s knees, which made Santana squirm and tickle back, which made Brittany laugh and stumble, which made them both lurch and tumble.
The third time they spilled over onto someone’s lawn, Quinn separated them, pulling Brittany around to her right side and keeping Santana on her left. But Brittany and Santana just reached around her to nudge and poke at each other, not too mindful that they were also nudging and poking at Quinn in the process.
Quinn tried to keep a straight face, but after a few steps she had to retaliate. An all out tickle fight broke out on the sidewalk.
Finn was a few steps behind them, watching. A wide smile spread across his face. He bounded forward and wrapped his gangly arms around all three girls.
“Group hug!”
Quinn giggled, Brittany hugged back, hard.
Santana immediately squirmed and shoved, but since she was the smallest, she couldn’t make much headway in freeing herself. Instead, she snaked a skinny arm through the crush and managed to wrap a hand around Finn’s forearm. She dug her nails in.
“Ow!” He let go, jumped back.
He cradled his right arm in his left hand, running his thumb over the marks Santana had left. Even in the dim street light, he could see the half-moons her nails had dug into his skin.
“That’s what you get for sexually harassing us.”
“I wasn’t sexually…”
“Hey! It’s my house!” Brittany let out a happy shriek.
Quinn shushed her. “Its after midnight Brit.”
“It’s my house!” Brittany whispered, grinning at Quinn.
Santana and Brittany started down the front path, but Quinn hung back. “It’s late….I should get home...”
“I can walk you!” Finn’s voice came out almost as loud as Brittany’s had been.
Quinn smiled up at him.
“Okay.”
He forgot all about Santana mauling his arm.
“Okay.” Finn echoed.
Santana looked at Quinn, then Finn, then back again.
“Okay, okay” she mimicked, sending Brittany into yet another fit of giggles. “You dorks deserve each other.”
She spun on her heel, her skirt ruffling out around her.
“C’mon B.”
She grabbed Brittany’s hand and they pelted up the walk to Brittany’s front door.
“’Night dorks!”
*
Brittany and Santana burst through into the nighttime hush of Brittany’s house. They stumbled over each other’s feet in the dark of the front hall. Brittany held in a whoop of laughter, and it became a snort instead. Santana snickered. Before they could quiet down, Brittany’s mother appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Hi girls.”
“Hi mama,” Brittany answered, beaming up at her mother.
“Hi Anna.” Santana kept her voice soft, and hid behind Brittany a little. She really hoped Brittany’s mother couldn’t smell the rum and the vomit all the way at the top of the stairs.
“Did you have fun?”
They nodded in unison.
Anna smiled. “I’m glad.” She yawned. “Sleepy, but glad. If you want a snack, there’s still the rest of the apple crisp.”
Santana poked Brittany. “Ask her”
“What?”
“Ask her.”
“Ask her what?”
Anna broke in. “Yes Santana. We have blueberries for tomorrow morning.”
“Yay!” It was too loud. Santana clapped a hand over her mouth.
But Anna was still smiling. “Just dial it down a little. Christina is sleeping.”
“We will. I promise.” Santana whispered.
“Goodnight mama.”
Anna rejoined her husband in bed, a small smile lingering on her lips.
He turned off The Daily Show. “Brittany ok?”
She nodded, snuggling up to him. “She’s brilliant. Geniusly happy.”
He wrapped his arms around his wife.
“That’s my girl.”
*
“Can I take a shower? I feel kinda gross from puking.”
“Yeah, use the downstairs bathroom.”
The upstairs bathroom was right next to Chrissy’s room. Santana suspected that a midnight shower waking up her five year-old would test even Anna’s patience.
“There’s no big towels down here. I”ll get one. And your pjs and stuff.” Brittany tiptoed up the stairs, as quietly as she could manage.
Santana made her way to the bathroom downstairs. She didn’t need to turn on any lights along the way. When she flicked the switch in the bathroom, the bright light made her vision swim, reminded her that she was still a little tipsy.
It was cold. She hurried to turn on the shower, cranking the tap as far as it would go to the hot side.
She undressed while she waited for the water to warm up. She kicked off her shoes, but left her socks on, not wanting to feel the chill of the tile floor on her bare feet until it was absolutely necessary. She undid the fastener on her skirt, slipped the zipper down, and let it fall. Her fingers felt for the hidden zipper in the left seam of her Cheerios top. She found the tab and pulled up, then grabbed the hem and lifted the shirt over her head.
She turned to the full length mirror on the back of the door. Her red spanx came up high on her waist, almost to her belly-button. She folded them down until she could see the tops of her hipbones. Her eyes tracked over the lines of her body in the mirror.
Coach Sylvester had put them through a week of punishing drills at cheer clinic before tryouts, and Santana could see the work had already cut a little definition into the smooth curve of her belly. Her legs were a little stronger too.
She turned slightly, and pushed up onto her tiptoes, watched her profile in the mirror. The long muscles in her thighs and calves shifted and she liked the effect. She could see the beginnings of a super cute ass in the making, and resolved to try to hate Coach’s sets of lunges and squats a little bit less.
She fell back down to her flat feet, turned back to face the mirror. She watched herself run a hand over her abdomen, up to her rib cage, and poke a little at the spaces between her ribs. Her boobs were still a problem.
She reached behind and unhooked the clasp of her bra and tossed it to the side. Her breasts were pale, the tan line from her favorite bikini top evident.
She chewed the inside of her lower lip. Her boobs were the same size at least; Courtney’s were weirdly lopsided.
Santana scrunched her nose at her reflection. Not big enough.
She remembered Morgan demonstrating jumps for them that week, wearing only her sports bra and boy shorts.
Yeah…definitely not big enough.
The room was warmer now, steam curling out from behind the shower curtain. Santana slipped out of her spanx and socks and stuck a hand into the running water. She pulled back immediately, scalded.
She adjusted the temperature, checked again, then stepped in.
Santana was lathering her hair when Brittany came in a few minutes later. She couldn’t see her through the opaque shower curtain, but she saw her shadow moving around the bathroom.
Brittany had changed into a tank top and loose drawstring pants. She laid a big, fluffy towel down on the closed toilet seat, in easy reach for Santana. She put Santana’s boxers and a t-shirt on the counter, laid her toothbrush on top.
“I didn’t find a shirt in your bag. I brought you one of mine.”
Santana didn’t say anything, busy rinsing the suds out of her long hair.
Brittany sank down, sat cross-legged on the bathmat in front of the sink, her back against the cabinets of the vanity.
“Finn and Quinn are cute. They should go out.”
In the shower, Santana poured more shampoo out onto her hand. She lathered her hair a second time.
“Finn’s a doofus. Quinn should go out with someone cool.”
“Oh,” Brittany picked at her cuticles. “Those guys we hooked up with tonight were cool.” She looked up at Santana’s outline behind the shower curtain. “Right?”
Santana finished rinsing her hair for the second time. “Yeah. Well. They’re first string.” She picked up what she thought was conditioner, but realized it was another bottle of shampoo. “Do you have conditioner?”
“Yep, wait.” Brittany turned around and opened the cabinets under the sink. She sorted through a few bottles of body wash and shampoo, picked out a bottle of conditioner.
She stood up, moved closer, held the bottle out to Santana. Santana reached a wet arm out from behind the shower curtain to take it and dripped warm water on Brittany’s bare feet.
Brittany moved back to the sink, stood in front of the fogged up mirror.
“That guy Harris asked me for my number.”
Santana ran her fingers through her thick hair, working the conditioner all the way to the ends. Alex hadn’t asked for her number, so she didn’t say anything back.
Brittany wrote Santana’s name in the mist on the mirror. She studied her handiwork,
then added hearts for decoration. “Do you think he’ll ask me on a date? Like, a real date?”
Brittany suspected a high school date would be better than eighth grade dates had been. Eighth grade dates involved people’s mom’s dropping you off at the movie theater and were severely limited by how far you could stretch an eighth grade allowance.
Santana rinsed her hair a last time. “Of course he will, you’re awesome.”
Brittany shrugged. “There’s a lot of pretty girls in Cheerios.”
“We’re the prettiest new girls.”
“And Quinn.” Brittany added.
“And Quinn.” Santana couldn’t deny that.
“Who do you think is the prettiest?”
“Of me, you and Quinn? You. Your eyes...” She stopped short, realizing her mistake. “You meant of the other girls.”
Brittany leaned over the sink. With her index finger, she filled in one of the hearts she had drawn, revealing a larger patch of the mirror.
She leaned in close and looked into her own eyes. Blue and gold wove together close in by the iris, darkening to gray toward at the outer ring of the pupil. Brittany blinked and looked again, but she didn’t see what Santana meant.
Brittany turned from the mirror, leaning back against the sink. “Yeah, the seniors and all. Morgan and Sarah-Ashley are so...”
Santana didn’t hear the end of Brittany’s sentence. She had closed her eyes and ducked her head back under the water. She thought of Sash’s fingers on Morgan’s hip. She pressed her own fingers there, on her own skin.
Her stomach jumped. But not like before, when she had been sick. Not like that at all.
Santana opened her eyes and moved to turn off the shower, then hesitated. She watched Brittany’s shadow on the curtain. She stalled, tucked her chin in toward her chest, felt the warm water rain down on the back of her neck and shoulders.
Brittany hopped down off of the counter. “I’m gonna get a soda. Do you want anything?”
“I’m kind of hungry…but I don’t …”
“Surprise snack!”
Santana grinned. “Ok, but nothing too gross.”
Santana heard the door shut behind Brittany and turned off the water. She squeezed as much water out of her hair as she could, reached out for the towel and stepped out on to bathmat, wrapped it around herself.
She stood still for a minute, enjoying the lazy loose feeling of her body. She wondered how many sips from Alex’s flask it would have taken to keep her in this zone of tipsy, how many made the giggling fits they’d had on the walk home, which sip was the one that had pushed her over into sloppy and sick.
Next time she’d try to count, find the formulas.
She patted her body dry and pulled on the shorts and t-shirt that Brittany had left. It was an old camp t-shirt of Brittany’s, faded and soft, “Arden Lake” in red letters that had peeled and cracked and looked so hipster retro now.
“I’m totally stealing this” Santana said to her reflection.
On the mirror, she saw her own name, wreathed in hearts, melting in the fading fog.
*
In the kitchen, Brittany chugged half a can of Dr. Pepper, then got to work making Santana’s snack. She pulled a bag of pretzel sticks out of the cabinet, poured some into a bowl. She rummaged through drawers until she found an unopened bag of peanut M&Ms, tore it open, dumped that on top of the pretzels. She stirred with her fingers.
“What else?”
Her eye fell on the bag of candy her mom had bought in preparation for Halloween.
”Ooh! Dots!”
A few minutes later, Santana padded into the kitchen but Brittany didn’t notice; she was intent on her creation, garnishing the bowl with a few ridged potato chips.
Santan tiptoed up behind her, snuck an arm by Brittany’s waist and snagged a chip out of the bowl.
“Hey! I was making that fancy!”
Santana reached around again and grabbed a handful this time. She picked out the Dots to save for later and chomped down on a mouthful of pretzels and chocolate. “Mmph.”
Brittany turned around. Santana didn’t step back. Their bare toes were close to touching.
“Are you still drunk?”
Santana swallowed. Brittany offered her a sip of Dr. Pepper and she took it.
“Just a tiny buzz now.”
Brittany’s loose pajama pants had slipped down below her belly button. Santana reached out until her thumb and forefinger grazed the skin at Brittany’s hip, something between a pinch and a caress.
Brittany tilted her head but her expression didn’t change. Her mouth was closed, her breathing even, her eyes steady on Santana’s face. She brushed the toes of her right foot against Santana’s left ankle.
“Let’s watch The Little Mermaid.”
They moved apart. Santana picked up the bowl of snacks, Brittany grabbed two more cans of Dr. Pepper.
They didn’t talk again for some time. In the den, they settled down on the couch and Brittany pressed play on the DVR remote. Santana picked out the red Dots from the bowl and ate those. Prince Eric commented that it was a perfect day to be at sea.
Brittany realized that today - Cheerios, parties, boys - would be the new normal. “It’s so weird that we know all these new people all of a sudden.”
“Thank god. I was getting pretty sick of the old ones.”
Santana put aside the candy for a minute and pulled a fleece blanket off the arm of the couch, unfolded it, offered Brittany one end.
Brittany pulled the blanket over her lap and moved closer to Santana. The part with the shark was coming.
It came. Brittany stifled a shriek and threw an arm around Santana’s waist, buried her face in her shoulder.
Santana smelled like soap and sugar.
Brittany lifted her head a little, placed a quick kiss under Sanatana’s chin.
“You’re still my favorite.”
*
In the morning, Anna found them in the den. Santana’s drool had made a wet patch on Brittany’s tank top.
Anna picked up the empty soda cans.
“Girls,” she called softly. “Pancakes.”