a/n : Thank you everyone for being patient! :) Here's the first chapter of the sequel! :) Let me know your thoughts. Enjoy :)

Chapter 1 : What About Now

Sometimes I'm not sure if it's better to know something or to have absolutely no clue if there is something you should know in the first place. Of course I know it's good to know obvious things like people's names and preferred genders. Or, that even if the two biggest rooms are downstairs, it's safer to take the small room upstairs that isn't right next door to Rachel's. However, I was pretty sure that I knew as much as I needed to know.

But there were things that bothered me. Little things. Tiny little things that I couldn't even think of right now, because that was my problem. I could never figure out what I was missing, or if I was even missing something in the first place.

I unzipped one of Quinn's bags. Quinn was sweet. She was letting me help decorate her room. She had even walked all the way upstairs and knocked on my door a few minutes earlier and asked if I was busy and if I wanted to help.

The rest of the girls had gone out to the store and Santana was at work. It was my day off. I knew Quinn had been in her room, but I wasn't sure if it was okay to bother her since the door had been shut.

I had never lived with this many people. I had only ever lived in a house where if a door was shut, then it was shut for a reason. I guess the biggest thing was that I had never lived with people who knew as much as these girls did and who I was so close with. I didn't know if it was different than living with family. Would we stop talking as much?

We weren't completely moved in. It was Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes, Santana and me. I didn't even have anything in my room yet and I was so glad Quinn knocked on my door, because I had been getting kind of bored. I had been kicking dirt across the hardwood floor that I'd found stuffed in the corner. But it was better than kicking the invisible dirt in the living room that Rachel had already swept up a million times or sitting on the floor out there since there weren't couches yet.

I had gone in my room wanting to plan on what to put where, when I remembered that I really didn't have anything to put anywhere. I had little things, like pictures to put on the walls, and a mattress. My dad was going to let me take the mattress. Actually he told me I could take the mattress but I wasn't sure whether or not he meant the entire bed. He would have said bed if he meant the entire bed. I think he was going to sell it.

"Where do these go?" I pulled out a stack of books and a couple of empty picture frames.

Quinn looked up from the other side of her bed. "You look tired Brittany." She reached across the bed and took the books and frames from me. "Are you staying here tonight?"

Santana was staying here. So I was staying here. I nodded.

I had been staying with Santana for the past few months. Since my mom had passed away.
It still felt weird to think that. Unreal. Almost like I was thinking about someone else's mom. I was getting better with thinking about it though. Before, I hadn't even been able to cry, and now I had cried twice. Once when I had sung Let It Befor Santana at work, because I wanted her not to be so worried about me.

And then I cried when I realized my mom would never be a grandma.

Nobody had heard me cry the second time. It was after one of Quinn's baby-miscarriage appointments that I had gone to with her. The entire time we were there I kept thinking about how she had lost her baby and the day it happened. The things she had said and how confused she had been and how awful it was to lose something when you didn't deserve to lose it. After the appointment, when I got back to Santana's house, I went and sat in the bathroom and thought about how my mom had lost the opportunity to have a grandchild.

I knew it was silly that I had cried and crazy that I had even come to that conclusion. I doubted I would be having a baby anytime soon. Or probably ever. I wouldn't know how to take care of one. Plus, I liked Santana and she was a girl.

"Hey, Britt?" Quinn spoke. It startled me.

I looked back up from the flower patterns on her bed. I swear her eyes were magnets. They were a deep, green, huge ocean of magnets that would probably be responsible for pulling the Titanic down if that were realistic. Quinn was beautiful and some of the things that have happened to her have been so sad, just like the Titanic. I couldn't remember exactly when it was, but this wasn't the first time I had compared her to that boat.

She was giving me a weird look. I hoped I hadn't said any of that out loud. I froze and waited for her to give me some sort of hint as to whether or not I had just called her a boat.

"Do you have your bed?" she asked and it sounded like it was a repeat question. She must have said something that I hadn't heard. I let out a small sigh.

I hadn't told anyone that I was only going to have a mattress. That seemed a little silly to share and a little unimportant. I didn't want to say something and have one of the girls feel awkward or like they had to offer me a spare bed that they didn't have. But a mattress could still be a bed, so I nodded. And then I paused and I re-thought her question. She was asking if I had my bed here, not if I had a bed in general. "I'm going to go pick it up when Santana gets here."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Quinn turned with a few of the picture frames and put them on one of her shelves.

I shrugged. I knew she couldn't see it. I guess the shrug was more for me. Not because I didn't care if she went or not, but because I didn't know if it was a good idea if she came. I didn't know if Hailey would be there. I hadn't really talked to my sister since funeral. Hailey had been at the house a few times and I'd said hello but that was it. Mostly we just caught each other in passing. She was leaving when I was getting there. Or I was getting there when she was leaving.

Wait, that was the same thing…I narrowed my eyes. Maybe I was tired. I repeated that thought in my head slowly and correctly this time. She was leaving when I was getting there. Or she was getting there when I was leaving.I nodded. That was right.

Hailey was sad and lonely. I think my mom had been one of her best friends.

"I can help lift heavy stuff," Quinn turned around and winked at me. She flexed and admired her arm muscle. It made both of us giggle. "Besides, if you two leave me here with Rachel, I…," she stopped herself and clenched her jaw.

"She'll grow on you," I smiled.

Quinn just shook her head and rolled her eyes. I still couldn't believe she had agreed to live in the same house as Rachel, let alone use the room right next to Rachel's room. The rooms downstairs were bigger and had way bigger closets and I guess Quinn and Rachel had the most stuff, but still. I had been talking to Santana about how it probably wasn't a good idea if Rachel and Quinn were roomie neighbors, but Santana had hushed me and said that it was fine.

Maybe she was shushing me because Mercedes was in the kitchen with us and she didn't want people getting ideas about mine and Santana's rooms being so close together.

I still wasn't sure how muchpeople knew and I was too afraid to ask. Maybe afraid was the wrong word. But Santana wanted to keep it private. I knew that. And I wanted to keep us private too, especially after what I had blurted in front of my mom. I had said things I shouldn't have and didn't know how to say and explain quite yet.

Bad things happen when you hurt people you love and you lose people when you hurt them. No way was I going to blab about my relationship with Santana again. It didn't need to be complicated and that was exactly what I had made it into with my mom.

I hadn't noticed I was staring until Quinn got my attention. She had tossed a balled up shirt across the bed at me. I smiled out of my daze and looked up from the bed at her.
"You really do look tired. You should take a nap." Quinn sat on her bed.

It was one of those fluffy beds. A big fluffy bed with a fluffy mattress that probably felt like it would feel to sleep on a cloud. Like a water bed, minus the water, but plus fluffy stuff. And her sheets were white so it looked even more like a cloud.

"I don't have my bed," I shrugged. "And Santana should be here in a little bit."

Quinn patted the spot next to her. "Don't be silly. You can take a nap on my bed. Or at least lie down and relax. I'll wake you up when she gets here."

I looked at her bed. It did look really inviting. I had woken up really early from a bad dream and instead of falling back to sleep I just looked through some of Santana's jewelry boxes and organized the rings and earrings and necklaces inside of them. And then I had spent most of the day shopping with Rachel, while Santana worked, and now I was here.

Quinn patted the spot next to her one more time and that's all the invitation I needed. I rounded her bed and sat right next to her. With my feet still touching the ground I lay back, folded my hands on my stomach and stared at the ceiling. It had all those tiny little bumps. The kind that when you touched them pieces of the roof fell off and into your eyes.

I closed my eyes in case pieces fell off right now.

The bed shifted and when I thought Quinn was going to get up, I felt her head rest against my stomach. It took me off guard.

I froze. But only because I wasn't expecting it and my eyes had been closed. I only froze for a second and then relaxed. I moved one of my hands from between us and started to play with her hair.

"Can I ask you something?" Quinn mumbled. She sounded tired. Or maybe that was just how she talked when she was being hesitant. I knew people only asked if they could ask a question when they felt the question was really, really, important.

"Sure can," I responded. I kept my eyes closed and my hand tickling through her hair.

Quinn was an amazing friend. After everything she had gone through and everything she had lost, she was still so nice to me. She didn't leave my side at the funeral. She didn't ever ask me questions when I was having a hard time talking about things and she always gave me a lot of little things like extra coffee and would always ask if I wanted to carpool to work.

Quinn never said anything. Maybe she had fallen asleep.

"What'd you say?" I asked her. I knew it been quite a while since either of us had spoken, because my voice sounded distant and half-asleep and she stirred. I think I had woken her up.

"Hm?" She nuzzled her ear against my stomach like I was a pillow.

"Nothing," I whispered. If she had wanted to ask the question she would have.

A few more minutes passed. I started to fall asleep. I could feel my body sinking.

"Britt?" I heard my name. It was distant and not quite loud enough to make me open my eyes.

Two soft knocks sounded through the room and even though they were quiet they shook my body and my eyes snapped open.

"Quinn?" It was Santana.

I heard Quinn's door open and looked across the room to see Santana walk in.

The second she walked in the biggest smile covered my face. A sleepy, dorky smile. Too much teeth not enough eyes, but only because the room was bright after my eyes had been closed for so long so I had to squint. I yawned mid smile.

She stepped into the room and looked at Quinn. Quinn didn't wake up as quickly as I had. She shuffled and grumbled and then sat up from me and carefully rubbed her eyes so she didn't smear her makeup.

"Why are you slamming doors?" Quinn spoke. She yawned and it made me yawn again.
I lifted my hands and rubbed the heels of my palms into my eyes. I could lay on Quinn's cloud bed forever.

"Why the fuck is there shit all over the living room still? You said you were bringing your boxes in here. We're getting Britt's stuff today and there's no walking room out there," Santana hissed. "Fucking lazy," Santana said that last part really quiet.

I pulled my hands away from my eyes and turned my head to look back at her, but she wasn't looking at me. She was giving Quinn a dirty look.

Santana must have had a long day at work. She looked stressed. I felt my lip pout out for her.

She saw me from the corner of her eye. I knew she did, because her eyes flickered to me twice and then she wasn't giving Quinn a dirty look anymore.

"You're kidding me, right?" Quinn scoffed and stood up from the bed. "I've been working for the past few days and haven't had the chance to organize." Quinn's response felt a little weird. It had taken her a second to say something.

"Soooo," Santana dragged out the word, "do it now…" She crossed her arms over her chest and was impatiently waiting for Quinn to say something.

"Excuse me?" Quinn cocked her eyebrow. And then she smiled. The smile was strange. Almost intimidating. "Ha…" She laughed. "I know what this is." She spun around, walked to her shelf, and laughed again.

Santana didn't falter. She didn't unfold her arms. She didn't even blink. But she did roll her eyes.

"Yeah?" Santana spoke like I imagine a whip would speak.

"Yeah." Quinn mocked Santana's tone. "I do…" She peeked over her shoulder, looked at Santana, moved her eyes to me, and then turned back to the shelf.

Santana folded her arms tighter over her chest. Almost like she was holding herself. And I finally understood why people crossed their arms when they got upset or uncomfortable. Hugs were powerful even if they were from yourself and people needed to feel powerful when they felt upset.

I wanted to hug her. I wanted to grab her hand, pull her onto Quinn's bed, and I wanted all three of us to take a nap. I didn't like it when they snapped at each other.

I wasn't as worried about their arguing as the other girls. Like Mercedes. Mercedes always tried to interrupt or calm one of them down. But Santana and Quinn were good for each other. Sometimes. Kind of like how rubber bands needed to be stretched a little every so often so they didn't get dry and break.

"I don't have a bed for my mattress," I blurted. I still didn't like to see them say things like that to each other.

Santana looked from me, crinkled her forehead, looked back to Quinn, and then back to me. She started to say something, but didn't actually say anything. She just moved her mouth. "Uh," she found part of a word. I probably shouldn't have just blurted that, but it was the only thing I could think to say that would distract them. "We can go shopping for one?" Santana suggested.

Quinn spoke too. She was moving and organizing books. "There's a mattress store down the street."

"Do they sell beds?" I asked. I had never bought a bed. I folded my hands in my lap and started to pinch the webbing in between my fingers.

Quinn spun and looked at Santana. They exchanged a shrug. Quinn then looked back to me. "They should," she looked back at Santana again. "They have lots of different things."

I pinched the webbing between my pinky and ring finger really tight. I wasn't sure if I had enough money for a new bed. "I can just use my mattress." That would work fine. It wasn't like I slept on the bed frame...because I slept on the mattress. I wasn't even sure if people actually needed the bed frame. It seemed like a waste of trees and wood. I smirked to myself. Rachel was a vegan and she had a bed frame. That seemed counterproductive to her stance on not how veganism was more than just food.

"Brittany, you need a bed," Quinn turned and smiled. "We'll stop somewhere on the way back from your house." She walked past me, still smiling, and then left her room.

The bed shifted when Santana sat down next to me. And even though the bed sank as she sat down, it felt like so much weight had been lifted.

I knew it was silly to be even the slightest bit worried about getting a bed frame. I knew there were so many other important things that I should be worried about. Like Hailey and where she goes when she wasn't at the house. Or like my dad and how I hadn't seen him in so long. Or why Quinn was pretending to be so happy all the time. And little things that had to do with Santana that I still didn't have answers for and didn't know if I needed answers for.

I wasn't worried about me and Santana, just about what our relationship meant.

"I don't understand why people care," I said it softer than I had intended. And I pinched the webbing between my fingers tighter.

Santana grabbed my hand and pulled it into her lap, linking her pinky through mine. Pinching between my fingers was a nervous habit I had just recently started doing. I knew it sounded cheesy in my head, but you had to pinch yourself when you thought you were dreaming to know if it was all real and I used to pinch myself during nightmares to try and wake myself up. It was the only thing that worked and I guess maybe pinching was just a comfort thing and made things seem real.

I closed my eyes. I needed to grow up and stop finding cheesy reasons for things.

…

My sister was sitting by me. In between me and Quinn. Santana was on the other side of me. I couldn't believe how many people showed up. I had told Santana that. I told her that most of these people hadn't even known my mom and that her and Rachel and Sam were the only friends of mine that had met her.

Santana had said that they were here, because of me and my sister.

I wasn't sure if I believed her but it was really sweet to say, because it had made me feel better.

The funeral had started. I wasn't paying much attention to anything, because when I tried to listen to the pastor talk it just sounded like I was trying to listen to talking under water. Instead I just stared at the casket. It was closed.

When my dad asked me if it should be open or closed, I said closed. Why would she want people looking at her when she hadn't wanted people coming over to the house?

Hailey said something. I hadn't heard her, but I knew she said something because Quinn leaned in and gave her that same look she gave me when I had mumbled something and I needed to repeat what I had said.

So I leaned in too.

"These people are annoying, they didn't even know her," Hailey whispered and it sounded almost like a snake would hiss. "We shouldn't have done this Brittany. I told you she wouldn't have liked it." Her eyes snapped over to me.

I had no clue what to say, but I could feel my face heating up. "She's not even here, it's not for her..." I said it before I had time to think. I had said it because Santana had told me that the funeral was for my dad and it was for my sister and it had made me feel better.

Hailey looked at me like I had said the stupidest thing in the world. Like I was so very wrong. Like I was completely and entirely wrong and that she couldn't believe how wrong I was.

So I tried to explain myself and whispered as quietly as I could. "Funerals are for family and friends," I closed my eyes and started to recite what I had concluded. "It's like a birthday party, because if the birthday girl was the only one to eat the cake then it wouldn't be a fun party."

"This isn't a fucking birthday party. How fucking old are you? Stop acting like a child and stop acting like this is okay. The funeral is for mom, because mom, is, dead," she had broken up the last three words very distinctly. "End of story. Don't treat me like I don't know what's happening, when I was the one doing your homework in high school, and especially when you say something that ridiculous. Just because you're older than me doesn't mean you can trick me with things like that. I'm not an idiot." Hailey looked away.

My face burned even hotter. I knew Quinn was looking at me, and I felt Santana's hand touch my knee. And I knew other people had heard, because a few people cleared their throats. I was just glad that the pastor was older and probably a little deaf, and probably a little nervous and focused on speaking because I would never want to get up in front of a huge group of sad people and talk about someone that was dead and that I didn't even know.

I looked forward and I started to pinch between my fingers. It felt so hot. Like my skin was going to melt off and like I was never going to stop heating up and I was pretty sure other people could feel how hot I was getting and I knew it was making them uncomfortable.

Hailey wasn't stupid. I knew that. She was super smart. She skipped school and still got better grades than everyone else. But I wasn't trying to treat her like a little she was stupid, I was just trying to explain something.

My eyes had started to water and I knew it had been because I was getting so hot.

Santana leaned in, her hand still on my knee, and whispered into my ear. "It's okay."

She leaned back and from the corner of my eye I saw Hailey cock an eyebrow and scrunch up her face. I didn't look at my sister. I knew I had said something I shouldn't have.

It helped that Santana had said it was okay. I pinched between my fingers harder. This was going to be over soon and then I could leave and maybe being outside would help cool me down a little.

…

When I opened my eyes Santana's head was on my shoulder and it felt like that memory from the funeral just drifted away. I knew it would come back, because it always did. But Santana had this way of making me feel better and not worry about what had happened, or what was going to happen. It was very easy to not worry about things when I was with her. She was like my own personal hot air balloon. I didn't need her to make bad thoughts float away temporarily, because she didn't need to do anything. And yet it felt like she did a lot. That was why she was a hot air balloon, because they can float easily.

I sighed and closed my eyes. I needed to stop doing that.

"What's wrong?" She whispered and I felt her jaw move against my shoulder.

"Just thinking about stuff that happened," the words fell out of my mouth. It was easy to say things around her. She made it easy. She never got mad or upset and if I said something that was confusing she just asked me to elaborate.

She was either going to ask if I was thinking about my mom or if I was thinking about my sister or my dad.

"I don't know..." I spoke and answered before she had to ask. "It's okay though. I was just thinking." I smiled because her head was still on my shoulder. "How was work?"

Santana didn't answer right away. I think something had happened at work that made her grumpy. "It was boring. Rachel kept showing me different colors she wanted me to pain my room. And then she was asking me weird questions, like when I liked to shower and what foods I like for dinner. I think you might have some competition on your hands."

I snorted out a laugh.

"I'm serious," Santana continued. "She's crushing on me and who could blame her?"

I laughed again and laid my head against hers. "You are super hot."

"Yes," Santana nodded.

I wrapped my arms around her waist. "I wish I could hug you forever."

"Rachel's expecting me in the shower at around eight, so you have till then," Santana teased but her voice was so warm and so gentle and so sweet.

I unwrapped my arms from around her, leaned back, and gently pushed her away from me. "Stop it." I laughed as she fell sideways onto Quinn's mattress.

She laughed too.

The bed shifted as she shot back up and her fingers lunged for me stomach. She pinched and I shrieked. I was way too ticklish for my own good and she knew that. I tried to slap her hands away, but the only thing I could do was shriek and smile.

Her fingers caught the skin below my ribs and I leapt away and off of the bed. She chased me and I think that was what made me laugh even harder. The thought of being tickled was a million times worse than actually being tickled.

I darted out of Quinn's room, past Rachel's room and into the living room. Two steps later I kicked a box, stumbled, and caught myself with my hands before my face hit the floor.

"Oh my God," Quinn gasped through a muffled laugh.

"Ouchie," I pushed myself up from the hardwood floor and rubbed my palms together. "I think I got wood burn..." I started to examine the red blotches on my hands. It felt like they were on fire.

Santana peeked over my shoulder. "You got woodburn? On your hands...Who's the lucky guy?"

I gasped and for the second time playfully shoved her away from me. She always was good at finding things like that to comment on. Or I was good at saying things that she could comment on. Either way.

Santana grabbed my hands, looked them over, and gave me an apologetic smile. I just shrugged as if to tell her that it wasn't that big of a deal.

But then my body started to get warm. That was the first remotely sexual thing she had said to me since forever. It wasn't like that stuff never had come up on purpose. It was just that other stuff happened instead of sexy stuff. I wasn't even sure why we hadn't kissed or held hands or anything like that. I wasn't worried about it, and I guess maybe because right now was the first time I had noticed or thought about it. I wondered if she had thought about it...

Quinn looked over at me, but looked away right away. I think she knew I was blushing.

I don't think Santana noticed, because she had gone to pick up the box I had tripped over.
"Quinn do you want me to put this in your room?" Santana grunted as she picked up the box.

Quinn walked over and peeked into it. "Utensils and pans, so just set them on the counter in the kitchen."

Santana hefted and hugged the box tighter to her chest before she headed toward the kitchen. I picked up the closest box, before my face turned any brighter. "What about this one?" It was lighter than I had expected.

The three of us cleared out the living room and put the boxes where they were supposed to go. It didn't take long. Mercedes showed up when we were halfway through and helped us move everything else.

"Five bedrooms and Rachel and Quinn somehow ended up right next to each other," Mercedes took in a deep breath. We were putting Quinn's silverware into the kitchen drawers. Quinn was in her room organizing her clothes and I think Santana was in one of the bathrooms hanging up a shower curtain. "At least we're upstairs so when craziness does happen we'll be far enough away."

"I think they'll be fine," I shrugged. I was pulling out all the forks. All the different types were mixed together in a big Tupperware tub. Knives, forks, spoons, bigger spoons, tiny baby spoons, bigger forks. I wasn't really sure why there needed to be three different types of spoons, but it was cool.

"How on earth could they possibly be fine?" Mercedes laughed and shook her head. "Have you met Rachel? I love the girl, but..." Mercedes didn't finish. She never really said anything bad about anyone. It was weird how she was so positive about people, but still so opinionated. I think it was just because she always said things that she honestly felt were true.

"It's not like they're sharing a room. And Quinn is really, really, sweet. She let me help organize her room and she's been really..." This time I didn't finish. I was going to say something about how she had been so helpful with everything having to do with my mom, but there was no reason to bring something like that up right now. "She's going with me to help get my stuff from my house in a little."

Mercedes looked up from the silverware drawer. "I thought Santana was going with you..."

My heart did a weird flip. Not an happy flip like it had done and always does when I saw Santana after not seeing her for a little. And not a scared flip, like it did when I dropped an entire case of Vodka the other day and broke all but three of the bottles. I still needed to tell Will about that...But it was a flip that meant that I was just a bit unsure of what to say or of how much Mercedes knew and what was okay to say and what wasn't okay to say. Like I was suddenly walking on super thin ice, but excited about it, because I always was excited about Santana.

I chose my words carefully. "She is..."

"They're both going?" Mercedes' voice rose.

It had startled me. But I just nodded. Saying no words was easier.

I wished I could just say everything and at the same time I would give absolutely anything to never have to talk about mine and Santana's relationship ever again. I would talk to Santana about it though. Of course. And maybe Quinn, because she obviously knew. And if I had to talk to Rachel about it, then I think it would be okay, because she knew too. But still, they didn't know much. I hadn't told them anything, talked to them about it, said anything specific, they just already knew stuff which made it a little easier.

"Well," she let out a shallow breath. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Why?" I clenched my fist around a fork in my hand. I hadn't meant to continue the conversation, but my curiosity was quicker than my brain.

And now that flip was back and my heart was flipping over and over and over. I tried to think of something to change the subject, but I couldn't. I kept thinking about Santana. Where was she? I whipped my head around to look behind me. Just an empty living room.

Where was she? I tried to remember.

The bathroom. I nodded to myself and I relaxed a little. And then I felt a little stupid for panicking like that, because Mercedes wasn't mean or scary or anything bad at all. She was amazing.

I looked back to her. She was looking at me with the most confused look on her face. Both eyebrows lifted and her mouth parted like she was about to say something.

"Girl, if you don't know that answer then there's no reason I should..." Mercedes spoke.

I didn't even remember exactly what she had said, but I knew it had been something about Santana. I just nodded. Nodding was okay, right? But now it was too quiet and I felt like she was reading me like an open book that had no pages.

"I'm getting a bed frame I think," I said. Finally I had been able to say something after what felt like a million years. But then I remembered I couldn't afford a bed frame and my shoulders dropped.

Mercedes didn't change the look on her face much, but now it was somewhere between confused and concerned. It was always easy to tell when she was concerned. But I didn't want her to be concerned. There was no reason to be, because I knew I was being weird.

"I'm pretty sure Sam is coming over tomorrow. For the moving in party," I said. I knew I had invited him over tomorrow afternoon to help Rachel lift heavy stuff, because she was moving in some dressers, but I wasn't one-hundred percent sure I had mentioned the party. I'm sure I had.

That caught her attention. Now she looked shy and bashful and went back to playing with the silverware in the silverware drawer. Mercedes and Sam weren't any closer than they had been a few months ago, but obviously she still had a thing for him. He was a good guy. An awesome guy. The best guy.

Quinn walked into the kitchen. "You ready Brittany?"

I winked at Mercedes so that Quinn didn't see and then nodded at Quinn. Santana walked in not two seconds later setting our purses on the counter. She had changed into something a little fancier. I was going to ask her about it, but she started talking to Mercedes about the party we were throwing tomorrow. So while they talked I just kept pulling out forks from the Tupperware tub and sorted them.

Quinn started to help me. She was grabbing spoons, but the baby spoons. We put them into little stacks until they were too high to stack and then scooted them to Mercedes. I was so busy pulling out forks and then separating the forks between big forks and small forks and then putting the separated forks into stacks of four that I hadn't even noticed Quinn had left. When I looked up I saw that Mercedes had also left and I had been sliding my fork piles to Santana who had been putting them in the drawer.

I couldn't help but smile as I slid the next fork pile very slowly to her. Slower than had been sliding the other ones just seconds before.

I liked her curled hair and her incredibly warm eyes that could never not be warm even if she tried to make them unwarm.

She reached for the forks, but grabbed my hand. She lifted her other hand up and held my hand sandwiched between both of hers. She leaned across the corner of the island counter and rested her elbows against the marble. "How about I buy you a bed frame, for your birthday."

It was the last thing I had expected her to say. My birthday was like two weeks away. But I smiled. I couldn't help it. I didn't understand how she always knew stuff. She knew things before I had to tell her. I wasn't sure how she knew I was out of money, or maybe it was just coincidence. Either way. Coincidence or not, she still knew things.

"I can't let you do that," I hummed and was now pretty sure I was melting in her hands. I couldn't let her spend thatmuch money on me. "That's way too expensive."

"Too late, I've already decided that's what I'm going to buy you." She smiled and I melted even further.

"But it's expensive," I tried to argue even though knew I was going to lose. I couldn't say no to her when she had made up her mind.

She rolled her eyes and squeezed my hand tighter. She didn't even need to say anything. She just stood up from leaning over the counter, let go of my hand, handed me my purse and then guided me to the living room with her hand on my back.