All Alone

Chapter Eight

Brittany sat up, rubbing her eyes groggily. She looked around the room. She didn't recognize it at all. It was all black and dark purple. She was on a really comfy bed.

She was starting to get a little freaked out when suddenly a smell came to her nose. It smelled kind of like pancakes and bacon.

The blond stood up from bed and found her way to the door. Her head hurt so bad and her stomach was churning. Where was she and what had happened last night?

She made her way down a hall and finally into a kitchen where a girl was standing at the stove next to a big plate of pancakes and bacon.

"Where am I?" Brittany said softly.

The girl turned around and it was Santana.

She breathed a sigh of reliefe.

"Hi." The brunette said, turning back to the stove. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

Brittany's brow furrowed. "I-I... remember that I drank a lot. I remember that I threw up... that's it. Did anything else happen?"

Santana paused, seeming to be contemplating something. Finally she just shook her head. "No you just passed out after a little bit so I brought you here."

The taller girl nodded. "Why are you making food?"

"You need it to help with the hangover." Santana answered. She walked over and set the plate on the table. "Eat."

Brittany grinned excitedly as she sat down and began eating. "We're friends now aren't we? We really, really are." 

"Just shut up and eat, okay?" Santana snapped.

The smile disappeared from Brittany's face. "Sorry..."

Santana turned around, her eyes hard, "Look we can hang out and stuff but I'm not calling you my bestie, or braiding your fucking hair or making fucking friendship bracelets!"

"I never asked you to do any of that..." Brittany said, trying not to cry.

"I know, okay!?" She ran her hands through her hair. "Look, you just... I'm kinda fucking sick of your bubbly attitude."

The blond's brow furrowed. "Are you sure... that nothing else happened last night?"

Santana sighed angrily, taking something out of her pocket that looked a little like a cigarette but not exactly like one. She lit it up and smoked it.

"What's that?"

"A joint, blondie what the fuck do you think it is?"

"You called me blondie again." Brittany looked down. "Why?"

"I can't deal with this... not today not after last night." She blew smoke out of her mouth.

"So something did happen last night!" Brittany said.

"Yes, blondie, okay? Something fucking happened last night. You fucking kissed me last night."