The Girl Next Door (Brittana Fanfic)

Chapter 5

Brittany and Santana pose opposite each other taking in the other's appearance. Santana's ebony hair is glued into knots and her heavy eye liner is smeared like ink across the side of her face. A few scratches and bruises mark shapes across their bodies and tares into their clothes. Dirt lies coated underneath their finger nails yet Santana raises her hand and brushes a twig out of Brittany's ruffled hair just as Grace walks into the bedroom, startling both girls.

"Oh my... What happened?

[8 hours earlier]

"It was like a movie, momma! The pinnacle of all things spectacular, and it was right in front of me!"

"Party was a'ight. I s'pose..."

"Stars... EVERYWHERE! Double constellations disputing science and then some,"

"Same old, the same people showed up, the same people hooked up and the same people got trashed."

"It was one of the most extraordinary scenes I had ever witnessed. If not the most."

"It wasn't even that great."

"Santana is such a wonderful girl!"

"Outstandingly mundane!" Santana drops her spoon into her empty breakfast bowl causing it to clatter around as she chews on the rest of her cereal. "But I bet that Brittany girl next door wouldn't have known she was born."

"And what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Anita asks as she sits opposite her daughter at the breakfast table, slapping on red lipstick and squinting in front a small compact mirror. Santana wipes her mouth with her sleeve and thinks for a moment before her eyes travel across to the damp sweater that lies in a crumpled heap in front of the tumble drier. She never really gave notice before but, the garment was multi-coloured, gaudy even, and Santana would never have been caught dead wearing the hoodie in daylight. But none the less, Santana smiled to herself and sighed comfortably.

"Santana?" Anita asks again, yet this time more impatiently. Santana jerks her face up to meet her mothers rolling eyes. Santana just shrugs and lifts herself from the breakfast bar stool to carry her bowl over to the sink. "Well whatever it is, I don't want you to be doing it here. I'm having guests over this evening for dinner and I think it's best that your existence is unheard of; there will be some serious planning going on and I can't afford to have any distractions." Anita asserts herself, puckering into the mirror and popping the lipstick lid shut before straightening out her dress shirt and scraping a stain away from the marble surface in front of her.

"Whatever," Santana mumbles, throwing Brittany's sweater into the drier. "This house is as interesting as being a part of the snoozer in Nashville." She mocks a yawn but Anita perks up and grimaces at her daughters comment.

"Don't talk unless you know what you're talking about Santana." She retorts. Santana analyses her vainglorious mother, who prances tall yet obnoxiously around the kitchen as her heels clank against the white tile flooring. "And I want you to clean up before you leave, I should be able to see my reflection on this floor." Anita finishes before making her way to the front door and leaving without a goodbye. Santana just flicks her middle finger up behind her back and oozes out a frustrated scowl.

"Oh honey, it sounds like you had a wonderful night!" Grace beams as she gleefully washes up the breakfast dishes. Brittany can only grin broadly behind her before swallowing an oh-so familiar pill nonchalantly with a glass of water before wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

"I think... I think I've made a friend, mom. A REAL friend!" Brittany projects, while sliding along the wooden laminate flooring in her socks and causing the water to tip over the edge of the glass.