Can I get you a drink?"
"I'm alright," Santana replied. She was trying to use as few words as possible today. When she'd first arrived at Puck's, she'd tried not to show that she was feeling so dejected, but she'd since realised that he wouldn't really notice, either way. Santana and Puck had been dating for several months, and in the beginning, he'd made an effort - he'd taken her out for meals and bought her flowers and made her feel special, which wasn't a feeling she often got. But recently, she felt as though she was little more than a sex toy. Which meant it had happened again. Every guy Santana had ever dated had started out perfect. But once they'd started dating, the perfection was gone, and it felt like her feelings didn't even matter to any of these guys. Puck was just the same. The perfection had just lasted a little longer, that was all. If only she could find someone who treated her like an equal...
She suddenly noticed that Puck had her lying down on the couch and was pushing up the skirt of her uniform. He never wasted time. It was almost like he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Usually, this suited her just fine, but today, it was pissing her off.
"Puck, get off. Why is sex all we ever do?"
"Because that's all you like doing," came the instant reply, spoken in a tone of voice that suggested this was obvious.
"No, it isn't! I like..." But Santana couldn't finish her sentence, because there weren't any words to finish it with. She couldn't say she liked cheerleading, because she was only a cheerleader to keep up her social status. She could say she liked being with her friends, but being with her friends was work, because of how aware she always had to be about what she was doing, to ensure she didn't do something socially unacceptable. She could have said that she liked being in Glee, which she did, but what would he think of her if she said that?
"I have to go," she finished lamely, and ran out the door before Puck had a chance to reply.
Santana liked touching herself, unlike a lot of her friends on the Cheerios, who thought it was disgusting and something only guys who couldn't get a girlfriend did. She especially did it in the early stages of finding a new boyfriend, when the perfection was still there but before they reached the stage of sleeping together. She could vaguely remember reading something - not that she ever read anything - that said that most people had their first, and best, orgasms while touching themselves. If that was true, Santana thought to herself, then it could only be downhill from here.
Santana's best friend was sitting on the porch steps as Santana left for school the following morning. Brittany jumped up and hugged her, sending warmth through Santana's body, but something was missing.
"Uh, Brittany? You left your purse at home, again." It was the third time she'd done it in two weeks. Santana had to wonder how a girl who sometimes forgot the whereabouts of her own feet was going to graduate high school.
Brittany looked confused. "What?"
"Never mind. You can borrow my stuff." Santana replied, giving her friend a smile. No matter how bad you felt, it was impossible to stay in a mood with Brittany for more than a few seconds. She was so sweet, and nice. Before, Santana had always thought that the reason Brittany had so many friends was because she didn't care who she talked to, but now she was beginning to realise that maybe it had more to do with how kind she was. After all, Brittany couldn't be bad at everything. It made Santana wonder what else Brittany was good at.
As they arrived at school, Quinn Fabray appeared out of nowhere and looped her arm through Santana's. Santana turned her head in time to catch a glimpse of Brittany, looking lost as she made her way to the field on her own. Quinn had never been Brittany's biggest fan, having no patience with her, but this just seemed plain mean. Or maybe Santana was just noticing it more now.
"So, how's it going with Puck?" Quinn asked in her breathy voice.
"Not so good. I think I'm breaking up with him," Santana replied, trying to sound casual.
Santana didn't have an answer for this. She couldn't tell her friend the truth. It would completely go against the image she'd been trying to create since middle school.
"Because... because his grades are really bad," she invented on the spot.
"Who cares? It's just school. It doesn't matter in the real world."
"Yeah, but when we graduate, I have to get out of my house of hell as quickly as I can. If he's not going to get a job to support us, then there's no point keeping him around."
Quinn nodded, and Santana felt relieved. She'd gotten away with it.
After giving Puck the news, Santana felt strangely lonely. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't been in a relationship - although she used the term 'relationship' in the loosest possible sense - and she would have liked nothing better than to mope around on her own for the rest of the day. But that wasn't an option. Even doing something small, like that, could destroy her popular reputation. So she forced herself to keep her head up high and walk with the other cheerleaders, and nobody really noticed that Santana wasn't talking as much as she used to, because Brittany had a huge smile on her face like she'd just received some good news, and she was talking enough for both of them.
Santana almost considered blowing off her after school Cheerios practice, but managed to convince herself not to. After all, one wrong step around Sue Sylvester and her high school career as she knew it was over. That being said, it was one of the worst practices she had ever experienced. Halfway through, it began to rain. Sue, who was standing under cover, either didn't notice or pretended not to care. Then, one girl at the bottom of the pyramid had sneezed, and Quinn, Santana and Brittany had all toppled off the top and into the mud, ruining Santana's carefully done hair. The other cheerleaders had laughed at her, but not at the girl who'd sneezed. Santana felt like crying for the first time in years. She tried to keep the tears back until the end of practice, but practice overran, and she couldn't help a few hot, salty drips escape her eyes when she thought nobody was looking. Just as they were dismissed and she was ready to run into the showers to get herself cleaned up, Coach Sylvester called her back.
"Santana! A word."
"What is it, Miss Sylvester?"
"After your abysmal performance today, I've decided to demote you from the second row of the pyramid. You'll now go on the third row, and Amber will take your place. I'm sure I'll find that she has much better balance than you do."
Santana didn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she turned, and keeping her head down, walked as fast as she dared towards the shower block. When she was out of sight of the coach, she broke into a run, unable to see a thing. She had to slow down as she entered the hot and steamy shower room, so that she wouldn't run the risk of slipping on the wet floor. She gave door after door a push, but each one was locked. Why did every single cheerleader have to make the decision to take a shower on the very day she was late? She gave the very last door a push, and to her surprise, it swung open. She dashed inside without checking and slumped against the wall.
On hearing her name, she wheeled round, and came face to face with Brittany. Her first thought was that Brittany must have seen her come in here and wanted to check to see if she was okay, but then she realised that the Dutch girl was completely naked. That meant she'd been there first, and that meant that Brittany probably thought that Santana had come in here to perv on her or something. She wanted to be embarrassed, but she was too busy staring at her.
Santana had always known Brittany was pretty, but only because all the Cheerios were. Sue Sylvester only picked pretty people for the squad. The two had been friends so long that she'd never really looked at her. And now, as Santana took in the soft creamy curves of her best friend's body, she realised for the first time how beautiful she really was. She wanted to say something, anything, to recover this situation, but for the first time in her life, her mind was completely blank. There was no excuse for this. It wasn't normal, and it definitely wasn't something a cheerleader should be doing, and when Brittany leaked this to Jacob Ben Israel or someone, her reputation would be dead, and she would have to move to Hawaii or somewhere. But Santana could not tear her eyes away, no matter how much she wanted to or how much she tried. And suddenly, in one glorious second, her lips and Brittany's were touching, and she wasn't even sure who had initiated the kiss, all she knew was that right here in this moment, this felt more right than kissing Puck or any other guy ever had, and she needed more. Santana broke away from the kiss only to take a gulp of hot, humid shower air, and to yank her top over her head, not caring if it ripped, because nothing mattered outside of this shower stall. As she pressed Brittany against the wall she wanted to both protect Brittany from harm like a porcelain doll, but also attack her within an inch of her life. She settled for sucking down hard on the Dutch girl's left breast, while her hand was moving up the blonde's thigh, two fingers pushing inside of her and a third rubbing against her clitoris. Then, Santana released Brittany's breast, leaving the nipple hard and pointed, and switched to the right one, her fingers thrusting at the same time. Brittany's face contorted as she tried to fight the urge to cry out - after all, they were still in a public shower block, as hard as that was to remember - and that image was what pushed Santana over the edge. After that one, glorious moment all she wanted to do was collapse, but she had to take care of her best friend too - not that that would take much, judging by the way Brittany was biting down hard on her lower lip and writhing in Santana's arms. Brittany opened her mouth, silently screaming Santana's name as the two fell together onto the hard floor and Brittany came. On impulse, Santana lifted her hand to her lips and licked each finger in turn, tasting Brittany's cum. She'd never done anything that intimate with anyone, but that was the advantage of being with your best friend - you know each other so well, there's no need to feel awkward about such things.
Somewhere along the way, Santana's energy had come back and she felt hot again. Her cheerleading skirt was drenched with a combination of shower water and cum, and she ripped it off, tossing it to the side where the rest of their clothes were. Brittany flipped them over so that she was sitting on top of Santana and began to work on her. Every touch of her soft white fingers brought a spasm of pleasure through Santana's body. Both girls knew that Brittany was much less experienced that Santana, but somehow, it didn't seem to make any difference. Brittany still seemed to know exactly what she was doing, first stroking Santana's clitoris softly, then building up so that it was faster and faster and faster as Santana climbed towards her second climax of the evening. She knew that all of the other cheerleaders had probably gone home by now, but she didn't dare cry out, just in case. Even during the best moments of her life, her appearance to others always came first. She arched her back, screwed her eyes tight shut, and just as she felt like she couldn't take any more, Brittany moved down and nibbled Santana's clit, so that she exploded into the blonde's mouth and lay still, shivering from pleasure. And Santana realised that whoever had said that the best orgasms happened when you were touching yourself, had never had sex like this.
After a few seconds, or several minutes, or maybe a whole hour, Santana had the sense to push herself up and turn off the shower. The two girls pressed their backs to the walls and sat up, suddenly awkward, trying to hide themselves. Neither of them had any idea what to say next.
"Tell me something," Brittany said, eventually, "Why were you crying in practice earlier?"
For once in her life, Santana decided to tell the truth.
"I was crying because I messed up. I fell off the pyramid, and even though it wasn't my fault, it feels like it was. I felt so inadequate, like everyone thinks of me in a certain way and I'd completely gone against it."
"And then when you came in here?"
"Coach Sylvester kept me back. She wanted to move me down off the second layer of the pyramid. It's crazy, because I don't even like cheerleading very much. It's way too preppy for me. And the levels of the pyramid... they're all the same to me. But I still felt terrible. Because of the humiliation."
After a long pause, Santana continued.
"Brittany, nobody can ever find out about... about what we just did. It would kill me. My whole life, I've wanted to be this girl, the cool, tough one that everyone envies. And now I'm finally there. People respect me. People are scared of me. And I can't give that up. And if anyone ever found out about this... we'd both be below kids like Jacob Ben Israel on the social scale."
"Why do you care so much about what other people think of you?"
Santana was taken aback. Brittany had never said anything like that in her life. She usually just agreed to things without question. It was part of the reason why the pair got along so well. "Sorry?"
"I said, why do you care so much about what other people think of you?"
"Because really, when you graduate high school, none of them are going to matter. Some people will go to college, some will stay in this town and some will move away, but you're not going to keep on seeing them. High school is four years. The rest of your life... is so much longer."
Santana didn't know whether to be more shocked about the fact that Brittany had said something deep or that she'd never thought of it that way herself.
"We can do whatever we want," Brittany continued, unfazed by Santana's lack of response. "Ditch this school... run away... move somewhere else."
"That's a bit drastic," Santana croaked out.
"I know. I'm not saying we should do it. But so long as we know we could, if we wanted to... that's what matters."
"Britt... You're my best friend, and what I felt today when I was with you... I've never felt anything like that. And I want that again. And again. But other things are important too."
"You're choosing your reputation over me?"
"Can't I have both?"
"What if you had to pick one," Brittany said, sharply, "What if I said we could never have sex again... unless you told everyone. What then?"
One of the reasons Santana was so tough was because she always let her head rule over her heart. She could hardly believe she was considering doing the opposite now, but the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"I'd pick you," she said, "Every time."
"In that case," replied the blonde, "what are you waiting for?" And she spread her legs once more.
I downloaded some dick to my iPhone on the train and started browsing through, very enjoyable so far.