The Beginning (Brittana)

10

Brittany's POV

When I woke up the morning after the Cheerios' Halloween party, it took me a while to remember that I was at my aunt's house. I had known she was on vacation; otherwise, I wouldn't have even mentioned it. She would not have approved of me drinking alcohol at fourteen years old.

I noticed that Santana wasn't there anymore and saw that she had left me a note saying that she had gone back home and would see me on Monday, since she was sure her mom would ground her after the previous night.

I got out of the bed and made it neatly. I didn't feel too hungover. I had only consumed a small amount of alcohol, since I had known that I had dance lessons that day and I did not want to feel awful while exercising. Realizing that I wasn't wearing my clothes, I found them thrown around the room and put them back on. I wondered how much Santana had seen, but decided I didn't care, since I could blame all my behavior on the alcohol.

Leaving the house, I made sure the door was locked and the spare key back where it belonged before I walked back home.

"Brittany," my mom said when I stepped into the house, "why didn't you come home last night?"

I considered telling her the truth but didn't want to make Santana sound bad just because she got drunk. "We stayed at Quinn's," I replied.

"Okay. Just please call me next time."

"I will." Then I walked to my bedroom and fed Lord Tubbington. I felt awful for leaving him alone so long, but he didn't seem to care, so I continued working on the latest friendship bracelet I was making.

I ate lunch with my mom and sister before dance class. Mom drove us, since Jessica took dance too. I took jazz and contemporary, though, while Jessica took ballet.

After dance class, I texted Santana to ask her how her day had been so far.

From Santana: I should've drunk less and my mom grounded me
To Santana: I hope you're better soon! See you Monday!

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The rest of the weekend passed slowly, and I was looking forward to Monday when I could see Santana again. So, first thing Monday morning, I put on my Cheerios uniform and rushed to the kitchen.

"Are we picking up Santana this morning?" Mom asked as she handed me my breakfast packed for after practice.

"Yup!"

"Then let's get going."

We got to Santana's house at the same time as usual, but she wasn't waiting for us outside.

"I'll go get her," I told my mom. Then I got out of the car and walked up to her front door and rang the doorbell.

I waited for close to five minutes before the door opened.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't ready, Britt," Santana said. "I slept in."

"It's okay," I replied, then we went to the car and my mom drove us to school for Cheerios practice.

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We were greeted at practice with three more freshmen who had made the real Cheerios on Friday after school. It was clear they were excited, but the seniors knocked them down a few pegs during our warm-up.

Santana and I ran together, just like we usually did until Sue told everyone to separate, but Santana didn't talk much.

"Are you okay?" I asked Santana.

"I'm fine," she replied, lying as usual. I could always tell when she lied; she looked down and to the side and she tried to force too much confidence into her words. I knew she wasn't okay, but I didn't say anything.