Guilt gnaws at Santana as she lies across her bed, sobbing. She knows she's being irrationally difficult with Brittany – and she knows in her heart that she wants Brittany more than anything. But she is wrestling with her defense mechanisms – she does not want to be vulnerable again, for fear that Brittany might reject her (again). Yet when she looks into those confused eyes… she cannot help but feel right.

Damn it.

The day passes slowly, and Santana dozes on and off while restlessly dreaming about Brittany. At five, she lures herself from her bed and showers, getting herself ready for a night out on the town. Not that there's anything to do in Lima, really, nor does she have anywhere in particular to go, but boredom has gotten the best of her and she needs a distraction. As she's finishing her makeup, her phone rings and there is no debate – guiltiness wins. "Hello?" she asks into the receiver, knowing full well who is on the other line.

No pause before she plows onward. "Hi Santana, it's Brittany. Artie broke up with me. Guess he likes me as a friend but he doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore. And he thinks I still have feelings for someone else." Santana is silent. "Guess he's right." Again, Santana is unsure how to respond. "He was really nice about it, he even gave me another lucky comb. Even though he did admit he lied about the first one being lucky. I'm hoping this one is."

Santana sighs softly, unsure how to feel. "So, what's… up?" she finally asks Brittany, trying to figure out why she actually called her.

Brittany makes an indecipherable sound. "I know you're like, mad at me and stuff for what I did and I get why. I get sad when people tell me no, too." Santana bites her lip, but listens while quivering with impatience. "But I miss you. My best friend, Santana, and the only person to teach me everything she knows about sex. Can't we just like, hang out or something?"

The angry Santana, lonely and volatile, wants to snap and hang up the phone, but she doesn't. She smiles faintly, but keeps her voice steady and almost apathetic. "Sure, I guess I can make plans with you for tonight." She is cool and collected verbally, but her entire body is trembling. She cannot erase the hurt in her heart, but she also cannot help but be enthused by this sudden change.

Though she internally vows to take it slowly and not rip open her heart again.

Brittany returns the exchange in a voice that holds more energy and excitement than Santana's. "Okay awesome! I can come over there, if you want? I really want pizza. And maybe we can dance? I want to dance!" Santana cannot help but chuckle and shake her head. When doesn't Brittany want to dance?

"Sure, I need like, an hour to get ready," she lies, trying to sound as though she hadn't been getting herself ready for nothing all night. "Be here by 8:30?"

Brittany agrees and hangs up the phone, and Santana feels emotions tearing themselves in half within her. So much for being resolute against opening herself up to Brittany again – but she cannot help herself.

"I should probably apologize for calling her stupid…" Santana muses. Though her angry self returns for a moment and she stomps her foot. "No wait, what am I saying? I don't apologize, for anything! She hurt me, so she deserved a taste of her own medicine." But inside, she still aches over the regret of having insulted the girl with whom she had fallen in love. Conflicted, Santana resumes the application of her makeup, then continues hurrying around her room to finish getting ready to go out dancing.

Nervous for the first time in as long as she can remember, Santana puts on some Sinatra and tries to relax.

Geeze, you'd think I was going on a first date or something. I'm a freakin' maneater for God's sakes, why am I so nervous about going dancing with Brittany?