Brittany looked down the hallway, Santana at her side, and the boy who she liked rolled past them, not giving her a sideways glance, not even a smile.
Then again, she always thought he was a robot, and only recently did Brittany start looking at the cute boy with the nerdy 3D-glasses who rolled around in a wheelchair.
Then, Santana made friends with black chick, and Brittany wanted someone who didn't make her feel dumb, and wanted to make babies with her. Artie, that's his name! He never laughed at her, never teased her, and never made her feel dumb. She knew she was dumb. Momma always told her she was dumb, and would never amount to any more than a pretty blonde bitch. But, Artie always talked to her, and when she got confused on her math homework, Artie always helped her.
Artie was like a boyfriend, but without the sweet lady kisses.
Oops. Artie kisses.
She asked him to be her duet partner. Even though, she didn't know how to sing with a blanket, but Brittany was positive Artie knew how to sing with one. He was a great singer. Especially in 'Can't Touch This' by that Hammer.
He said yes, and she was happy. Brittany liked being needed, wanting to help. Brittany enjoyed pushing him down the hallways, chatting and smiling. She was always the one who needed to be attended to. The one who always was not to be trusted with pointy objects or birds (only one time and nobody would let her in the science lab!) But, when she told Artie about the explosion with a few colorful chemicals that looked pretty together, all he did was grin and laugh with her.
"I promise I'll take you to the lab, and we'll make a miniature volcano. A safe explosion."
Brittany thought for a moment, before putting out her pinky.
"Pink promise?"
Artie's pinky wrapped around hers, tightly. His smile grew to his ears, and his hair fell messily in his face. Brittany giggled back, because he looked like a happy little boy, who was told he could have a cookie before dinner.
"Promise."
And so, Artie gave Brittany directions to the lab, and he helped her with all the questions she could think of. But, he never got mad, never rolled his eyes. Brittany nearly did a happy little dance when Artie said the words she'd never think anyone would call her.
"You are really smart, Brittany. The questions you ask are on such a high level of thinking."
There was no sarcasm in his voice, as if Artie truly meant it. Artie wasn't mean, and he wasn't cruel, and he wasn't sneaky, like Santana. Artie was sweet, kind and cute, like a true love should be.
That's the day Brittany decided she'd be the Cheerio to be Artie's first.
Artie was at Brittany's house, trying to teach her runs. Sighing he realized she was pure pop, while he was more classic rock and jazzy. Their voices did sound good together though, a mix of poppy beats and smooth singing that created a different tune. But then, Brittany came over.
Brittany's arms swooped around him, and he soon found himself on Brittany's bed. She straddled him, and before he even knew it, his V-Card was taken. It killed Artie, out of happiness and out of sadness. A part of him knew Brit didn't care about him, and what he was. But something nagged, telling him Brittany did care about him. He tousled her hair, kissed her slender neck, and felt her up (which was beyond awkward!). Brittany didn't go full out though, carefully avoiding hurting his legs, something Artie found perfect. She may not understand that his legs didn't work like hers, but she knew they were there, and they were hurt. Most people ignored his legs, because they didn't work, and had no use.
Smiling, Artie kissed Brittany one last time. She understood they had gone far, and that Artie was happy. Grinning, Artie wrapped his arms around Brittany's waist, and they soon fell asleep.
But, before they did, Brittany decided to tell Artie a story.
She talked about the twenty-seven notches on her bed, without realizing he was asleep, and couldn't hear.
Brittany decided to tell him tomorrow.
They broke up. Brittany cried after they did. She was good for nothing, always hurting people. Boys didn't care if their virginity was lost, and neither did she (because Santana didn't). But, it hurt Brittany that she didn't care. She wiped the tears, and didn't go to Cheerios practice. Instead, she called Artie, and left a voicemail.
"Hi Artie, it's me, Brittany. I'm so sorry I took away your V-Card. I didn't know. I didn't. I have twenty-seven notches on my bed, of guys I've done. I just wanted to say, those guys meant nothing. Toys, practice things for someone who loved me, and didn't make me feel bad. You were always nice to me, and even when I made people annoyed with my questions. I didn't add you to the twenty-seven. Santana's one of those notches. Because you care about me, and don't make fun of me, and are always nice. I really, really, really like you Artie. Okay," Brittany sniffled, trying not to cry again. She didn't want Artie to feel bad, "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."
And with that, Brittany went to Breadsticks, because she wanted to eat spaghetti, only to realize that no one was there to share the long piece with her. Feeling sad for everyone, especially Artie, Brittany left a twenty dollar bill, and left before someone she knew could see her, looking sad and pitiful. They'd think it was a little Brittany hurting. Brittany knew it was a lot of hurting.
She felt like her heart had been crumpled up into a million pieces, like heartburn but worse.
And sadly, Brittany understood it wasn't someone else to blame.
She was the one who hurt the person she liked most.
Looking down at her phone, Brittany saw she Artie had sent her a text. Fumbling with the phone, because it was blurry through the tears that were in her eyes, she saw a simple smiley face. Under the smiley face, there were three words.
I like you.
Cliffhanger or good stopping place? I have no ide! But it felt right to stop here. This is a little take on previous events, and after events of what happened. It could be a little AU (sorry if it is!). Continue or no? Review please! And Brittany is hard to write for.
Peace!
-Madi