Grabbing her towel, Santana wrapped it around herself and left the steam of the shower behind, making her way over to her clothes, patting the water from her tan skin as she went. Maybe she’d set up a date with Puck so she could take the edge of this feeling. So she could push Brittany from her thoughts. But of course, she knew that wouldn’t work. She’d already tried that – pushing Puck off her and leaving him thoroughly confused as she got away as quickly as she could.

No, there wasn’t another person that could help with this, she’d just have to hope it went away, or hope she could hide it, repress it, kill it dead inside her.

Santana didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be gay for her friend. It was bad enough that she was a Glee nerd; this was just . . . mortifying.

“San? Did I forget my towel again?” Brittany called from the side of the showers, her head peeking out as she checked to see who was out there.

Santana sighed, spotting Brittany’s towel on the bench beside her.

“It’s here,” Santana replied, picking it up and making her way to take it to Brittany – as any good friend would.

But Brittany – obviously sure that they were alone – walked out from behind the shower, completely naked, so that Santana didn’t have to go far.

“Jesus, Brit, do you have to walk around like that?” Santana asked, trying her best not to look, not to notice that Brittany could quite clearly feel the chill of the air conditioning, and quite clearly wasn’t bothered about what Santana saw or didn’t see.

“Like what?” Brittany asked, looking down at her feet of all things. “Am I doing it wrong?”

She was confused, and the expression on her face made Santana feel a twinge somewhere in her stomach region that made her turn away quickly.

Snatching her clothes, Santana began to dress as speedily as possible, while avoiding looking at her friend. It would have been easier without Brittany chattering on and on about all kinds of things that Santana couldn’t keep track of. Every glance she took was torture – a flash of thigh here, a glimpse of butt there. There was no getting away from the fact that Santana thought Brittany was hot. There was no pretending she didn’t think it or feel it. But there was no way she would allow herself to indulge in it unfairly.

Leaving no time for Brittany to catch up as she dressed more slowly, Santana threw her bag over her shoulder and headed for the exit, telling Brittany she’d be out in the hall. It was unusual for her to rush off without Brittany at her side, and Brittany gave her another puzzled look. She also looked hurt and Santana felt instantly guilty.

This really wasn’t going to be easy, and no matter how much she wished it wasn’t true . . . Santana knew their friendship was going to suffer.

Fidgeting with the strap on her bag in the hall as she waited, Santana ignored the few students who gave her a wide berth as they made their way past. Her head was somewhere else. Her thoughts on one person. It wasn’t until Puck sidled up beside her that she let her mind drift away from Brittany.

She rolled her eyes at him on instinct and wondered just how stupid – for the hundredth time – she was for ever wasting her time on him. He was clearly into Quinn Fabray in the biggest way, and she had never really liked him as anything much more than a status symbol. After all, he was good looking, and bad-ass enough for the rest of the school to fear him. It had worked for her for a while.

“So, there’s a party tomorrow night,” Puck started, getting much too close for her liking as he tried to act as if they were still actually into each other. “Wanna come with me?”

He grinned and wiggled his eyes, the innuendo far from subtle.

“Well that’d be a first,” she bit, watching his grin fall away.

Puck shuffled his feet, looking somewhat lost now. Maybe a party was what Santana needed though. Somewhere to let go. To just . . . be.

“Whose party?” She asked.

He told her the details before leaving, but she refused to actually agree to go with him to the party. She wasn’t about to give him all the wrong signals now; there was no point in barking up that particular tree again. It was all kinds of the wrong one. Anyway, she knew she’d be taking Brittany. Even though it would probably be a mistake right now, it’s what they did. They were always together so changing that would only look weird and upset Brittany, and she wanted neither of those things.

They would go together, and Santana would quash the feelings that were getting stronger everyday. She was tough; she could do it.

“I’m hungry,” Brittany blurted as she made her way towards Santana.

She only had one sock on and her skirt was twisted, but Santana didn’t say anything. Usually, in the morning, Santana would point out the things that Brittany needed to fix in order to look like she hadn’t gotten dressed with her eyes closed, but right now she could only smile and nod her head towards the exit, hoping nobody chuckled at Brittany’s rumpled appearance as they left; Santana wasn’t in the mood for fighting, it was just too hot.

“Your mom at home today?” Santana asked, pulling her car keys from her bag.

Sometimes, if Brittany’s mother wasn’t going to be home they’d go to Santana’s house and raid the fridge. Santana’s parents did nothing but work and were rarely home before her, but the fridge was always well stocked.

“Yeah, she’s home early today,” Brittany replied, twirling a lock of blonde that had fallen from her ponytail. “I told her the cat was reading my diary and not to open my door. I hope she didn’t let it in.”

Santana ignored the obvious fact that cats couldn’t read, choosing to just nod instead. She’d drive Brittany home and then make her way to her own empty house, where cats weren’t allowed, and where she’d sit alone in her room, eating whatever she could find whilst thinking about Brittany. It had become a theme.

They drove mainly in silence as Brittany watched the world go by – enjoying the breeze from the open window - and Santana gripped the steering wheel tightly. It would be so easy to drop her hand onto Brittany’s thigh. So easy to let her fingernails scratch over her pale skin until Brittany opened her legs and gave her permission to . . .

“Are you ok?” Brittany asked suddenly.

“What?” Santana asked, shaking her head free of her lascivious thoughts. She stole a glance at Brittany and inwardly groaned as Brittany gazed at her with her lower lip between her teeth.

She’d do that when she was worried, or when she’d done something wrong. The last thing Santana wanted was for Brittany to think she’d done anything wrong.

“I’m fine,” she finally answered, dragging her gaze back to the road as they neared Brittany’s house.

But she didn’t sound fine and she knew it. She sounded sharp, angular, and verging on a shade of angry that Brittany hated.

“You don’t sound fine,” Brittany correctly pointed out, making Santana shuffle in her seat. “I know when you lie to me.”

She said it softly, almost sadly as she turned away from Santana again to look out the window. And Santana hated that tone in Brittany’s voice. She’d vowed a long time ago not to cause that sound, not to be the one who disappointed Brittany, but it was inevitable right now. She had to lie. She had to make Brittany think that everything really was fine.

“I’m just tired; it’s been a long week,” Santana muttered.

It was true; it really had been a long week because of Sue Sylvester’s crazy schedule, but that wasn’t the real reason Santana was so on edge and she hoped Brittany would never guess what the real reason was.

“Did you wanna come in and take a nap with me?” Brittany asked, a small smile making her face light back up as she looked Santana’s way.

Santana tried not to notice.

“Nah, I need to get home,” she said, not telling Brittany why that might be.

It wasn’t like asking if she wanted a nap was anything strange for them. They’d napped together many times, and shared many sleepovers, but recently Santana had found an excuse not to be that close to Brittany. They’d normally share a bed, and though they wouldn’t exactly be draped all over each other, just having a stray leg or arm make contact with her right now would drive Santana nuts. It was too risky.

“Ok,” Brittany said, sounding sad once again.

Santana wished she could kick herself – possibly with a pair of Kurt’s platform shoes – but she couldn’t apologize to Brittany or explain her reasons. This was just the way it had to be from now on. Brittany would get used to it and it would give Santana time to get over whatever it was she needed to get over.

As they pulled up outside Brittany’s house, Santana tried her best to act natural; to be as gentle and patient with Brittany as she normally was. It wasn’t as it if it was Brittany’s fault that she could now no longer look at her without wanting to know just how soft her lips were and just how supple her body was. It wasn’t Brittany’s fault at all.

“So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night for the party?” Santana asked, glad that tomorrow was a Saturday so she didn’t have to spend all day with Brittany.

“Ok,” was Brittany’s forlorn response as she pushed open the door.

Putting her hand on Brittany’s arm to stop her from leaving just yet, Santana urged her stomach to stop twisting and turning for just a moment so she could speak.

“It’ll be fun,” Santana suggested, sounding less than enthused. Her fingers kept their light grip on Brittany’s wrist. “I promise.”

She’d never promised Brittany anything she couldn’t deliver. She’d never intentionally done anything or said anything to Brittany that would hurt her or deceive her. Santana hoped she could keep her word, without stepping over the line or making Brittany want to run a mile. They’d have fun together – as they usually would at parties – and Santana would keep her thoughts in check as best she could. She would try to remember that Brittany was her best friend, not a potential lover.

“I guess,” Brittany said, glancing down at Santana’s hand before letting her blue eyes flick up to meet Santana’s. “Will you be with Puck too?”

The question made Santana’s breath catch in her throat for a second. Well, maybe not the question, but certainly the flash of jealousy she saw cross Brittany’s features as she asked it.

“No,” Santana answered truthfully, letting her dark eyes disappear into Brittany. “I’m through with Puck.”

She knew she hadn’t really needed to throw that last bit of information out there, but it had slipped past her lips without thought.

“For good?” Brittany asked, allowing Santana to keep their gazes locked.

Santana wasn’t sure why Brittany would be all that bothered; it wasn’t as if Brittany didn’t date plenty of guys herself, or take them with her to parties they’d both attend. She wanted to be honest – to a point – with her friend though. She always had been.

“He’s not worth my time,” she said with a shrug, her hand feeling weirdly out of place now on Brittany’s arm, though she didn’t let go.

“Good,” was Brittany’s only response, and she pulled away gently from Santana and exited the car.

Feeling more than slightly puzzled, Santana watched as her friend bent down to smile at her through the open car door as she leaned an arm on the top.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Brittany said, a beautiful smile slowly replacing the worry.

It was the smile that Santana had always liked, and she liked it even more now. It was open, warm, full of kindness and love. It practically made Santana’s heart beat out of her chest these days, which was both mortifying and wonderful all at once.

“You should wear blue,” Brittany told her, in one of her rare ‘completely lucid moments’. “You always look really hot in blue.”