I had just turned 13 when I made a friend who wasn't Brittany.

Her name was Quinn, and we hadn't always been friends. On Brittany's instructions, I had taunted her, been cruel to her, done everything in my power to make her life hell.

I wasn't sure why. Brittany told me that she'd have to get used to the pain of being who she was anyway. She said she was a target for bullies and all I was doing what toughening her up.

I wasn't sure, though. Even though I knew Brittany was only real inside my head, and that I had created her… It sometimes felt as though she had far too much of a mind of her own.

She was far too real, considering she was imaginary.

Which is why, as I started to doubt Brittany's cruel intentions, I began to see light shine from the chubby girl named Lucy Fabray, a girl who had tried to convince everyone to call her Quinn for a long time.

I was one of the few who did – I thought it suited her more. She wasn't really a Lucy kind of girl.

Our friendship sprung up after I'd had what you might call a fight with Brittany. During class, she would stand behind me and whisper instructions in my ear, and although sometimes they shocked me, I usually did them. I wanted Brittany's happiness more than anything, though I wasn't sure why at the time.

So, on one cold September morning, it was no surprise to me when I felt rather than heard Brittany, her hands running up and down my back soothingly. Although I couldn't really feel her touch, I felt the familiar warmth and it turned me to jelly. I wondered if she knew it had this effect on me, because she almost always did this before telling me what to do.

'Santana,' she whispered softly. 'I heard Quinn calling you names in the hall earlier. They weren't nice names. I think she should be taught a lesson.'

'Why,' I whispered back. I did not exactly enjoy being cruel – I would do it if Brittany wanted me to, but I didn't enjoy it.

'I only want the best for you, Santana,' she whispered. Her voice was silky as always. 'I'm here to protect you. But I can't do these things myself. I can only show you the way.'

My eyes narrowed. What if I didn't want to be mean anymore?

I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as I looked back down at my work and carried on.

'Santana,' Brittany repeated. 'What's wrong?'

'I don't want to be cruel to people anymore,' I whispered back, still looking at my work.

'You don't,' she said, as if tasting the words on her tongue. 'I see.'

And then she was gone. I felt myself relaxing again, falling back into the routine of the school day. I had completely forgotten about my brief rebellion until that evening, when Brittany seemed to have disappeared.

I called for her, but she never appeared. I could feel myself getting worried – I knew nothing could harm her, but I still feared for her safety.

'Brittany,' I almost groaned as I watched out my bedroom window. 'Where are you?'

She didn't appear.

So much for being the person I want you to be, I thought bitterly, sitting down on my bed.

I reached for my phone, and opened contacts. I just needed someone to talk to, anyone – even Lucy Quinn Fabray would be welcome right now.

I paused.

My finger hovered over the call button as I reached her name. I had acquired her mobile number off a friend – Brittany had told me I might need it later. Probably for some cruel purpose, I thought bitterly.

I pressed Call, listening to the steady ringing off the phone and wondering why I was doing this.

'Hello?'

My heart hammered. The thought of making a friend who wasn't Brittany – the thought of trusting someone who was actually real… It scared me.

'Uh, hi,' I said nervously. I heard Quinn inhale sharply.

'Santana?'

'Yeah, it's me,' I said. 'Listen, Quinn, I was wondering if you wanted to come round for a sleepover tonight.'

There was silence on the other end. I half expected her to hang up.

But she didn't. 'Sure.'

My heart leaped. Finally, someone I could look to in times of need. Someone who wasn't a figment of my imagination. Someone who wasn't just a dream.

'Okay, you know where my house is, right?'

'Yeah, I came to your birthday party when we were seven. My mom will know where it is. I'll just ask her and then I'll be over in like, 10 minutes.'

I felt the excitement building as I stood up, hurrying around my room, desperately trying to tidy it.

I heard the doorbell ring and I leaped down the stairs, two at a time, pulling open the door to reveal a shy-looking Quinn.

'Hi,' I said sweetly, pulling her inside.

'Hi,' she replied, slightly red in the face.

'Is it cold outside?' I asked, noticing the flush in her cheeks.

'Uh, yeah,' she said, smiling. 'Sure it is.'

We stood in silence for a few seconds – not an uncomfortable silence, though. A soft silence.

'Who's this, then, Santana?' My mom came rushing through, ringing Quinn's hand and looking happily from me to her, and back again.

'Well, Santana, now you have a friend and all…' I glared at her. Quinn giggled. 'Well I just thought you would start spending less time in your room, that's all.'

I rolled my eyes, and took Quinn's hand in my own. Her fingers interlocked with mine and I led her up the stairs, not looking back to see my mom's pleased expression.

When we reached my room, I lead her inside, our hands still intertwined. It made my stomach turn over – I could actually touch her. I couldn't touch Brittany.

But, hastily, I pushed thoughts of Brittany to the back of my mind and concentrated on the girl in front of me, who was grinning.

'What did you mom mean, about you spending too much time in your room?'

I blushed a little.

'Oh, nothing, I just…' I shrugged. 'Like to be alone sometimes.'

'You're always alone at school too,' Quinn pointed out. 'You're always on the swings… Talking to yourself.'

I frowned angrily. 'I don't talk to myself.'

'Yes you do, I've seen you –'

'No,' I said firmly. 'I'm talking to someone. It's not my fault that you can't see her.'

She looked suddenly hurt. 'Oh, like an imaginary friend?'

'Sort of,' I hesitated. 'She's too real to be imaginary though.'

Quinn moved closer so that our faces were inches apart. She looked straight into my eyes, straight into my soul.

'Can I tell you a secret?'

'Sure,' I whispered, slightly nervous.

She leaned in so that her mouth was millimetres from my ear – I could feel the hairs on my neck standing up. 'This isn't Quinn.'

My stomach turned over.

'Wh-what?'

I felt her lips attach to my neck and I squeaked loudly, pushing her off.

'Q-Quinn! What the hell are you –'

Quinn stumbled and then looked up at me, her eyes full of confusion.

'What just happened?'

I frowned at her. 'Um, you just kissed me.'

Her eyes widened. 'No I didn't. That wasn't me.'

'Yes, it was, you just came over here, told me you weren't Quinn and kissed my neck and –'

'So why are the last five minutes a blur? What the hell just happened?'

I watched her with wide eyes, my mind was a mess all of a sudden. Quinn just kissed me, and then when I pulled her off me, she forgot it had happened.

This isn't Quinn.

Suddenly, something clicked into place.

'B-Brittany!'

Quinn stared. 'Uh, no, my name's Quinn, not Britt –'

'Touch me again,' I said breathlessly.

Her eyes widened and she backed away. 'No fricking way, Lopez.'

I ran at her, grasping her shoulders and pulling her into a forceful embrace.

'Brittany?' I whispered, holding her tight.

'Guilty,' said Quinn's voice, but I could hear Brittany's silky tones underneath.

'Oh my God,' I said, wrapping my arms around her neck. 'Brittany… I'm touching you.'

'I know,' she said, but she sounded a little sad.

'I'm sorry,' I said hurriedly. 'I'm sorry about earlier. I'm sorry.'

She said nothing, but remained limp in my arms.

I could feel tears pricking my arms – I was finally able to reach out and touch my best friend.

'I want to stay like this forever.'

It wasn't me who whispered those words – it was Brittany. Throught Quinn's mouth.

'Me too,' I whispered softly.

Then I remembered something.

'Why did you kiss me, Britt?'

I felt her shrug a little in my arms. 'Felt like it.'

'You just wanted to scare me, didn't you,' I chuckled tearfully.

She hesitated. 'Yeah,' she said. 'Sure. Whatever you say.'

I frowned, but pushed the thoughts from my mind. I had Brittany in my arms, and that was all that mattered. It didn't matter that Quinn would resurface ten minutes later, wondering what on earth had just happened, and it didn't matter that I would lie and tell her that I just wasn't feeling well. Nothing mattered, in that moment, except the fact that Brittany could feel my touch, and I could feel her's.

Author's Note: I know, Brittany's evil, right? Most people would expect Santana to be the evil one, but it's much more interesting this way. I update quicker when I get more reviews and favourites, so please. If you like this, review. If you don't like this, review anyway. Thanks.